


A Hogwarts Halloween

by ladyroxanne21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: I feel like this is a spoiler but, I'm also about 80 percent sure Moaning Myrtle was being a perv, I'm pretty sure George did something, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mpreg, One off in the loo, somewhat awkward first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-27 05:58:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12575204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: For the first holiday at Hogwarts after the Final Battle - which is Halloween of Harry's Eighth Year - the Professors decide to throw a "masked" ball to promote House Unity. Harry meets and dances with a mystery boy before inviting him to the second floor girls' bathroom. Smut ensues, lol ^_^





	1. Chapter 1

Harry frowned when George handed him a drink. “What's in this?”

“Harry, I'm wounded,” George protested with an overly feigned tone of offense. “Would I volunteer to chaperon this dance _just_ to slip something in your drink?”

“Yes,” Harry stated with utter conviction.

George sighed and tilted his head side to side to admit that Harry had a reason to be suspicious. “No, I came here so that I could sell my products directly to the students. Anyway, drink up! It's just orange juice spiked with a bit of firewhiskey.”

“Yeah, alright,” Harry capitulated with a sigh.

“That's a good lad!” George praised with a grin and a pat on Harry's back. “Now give me a moment...”

This – being the first party thrown at Hogwarts since the Final Battle – was intended to promote House Unity by taking full advantage of the fact that it was Halloween. Everyone attending the ball – including the Eighth Years, which Harry was a part of – was required to submit to Disguise Charms upon entering the Great Hall. It meant that there was quite a line waiting to get in, but all of the Professors and chaperons were dedicated to casting the charms so that no student was recognizable to any of the others. The idea behind it was that without their preconceived notions, they could meet and get to know each other as strangers, and maybe even form new friendships. Thus, Flitwick had created Random Glamour Charms that changed their features at random so that they could look like anything other than themselves.

“There! Glamour managed!” George pronounced with a grin. “You look rather dashing, Harry. I hope you have fun!”

“Thanks George,” Harry murmured as he waved and wandered off toward the tables lining one wall which were laden with food. The glass George had given him really only contained about 4 ounces of liquid, so he downed it in a long gulp, coughing a bit because of the alcohol, and then sighed as a feeling of mild warmth spread through his body. He might even try dancing at some point since it wouldn't matter how bad he was at it, no one would know it was him anyway.

In fact, since no one knew who he was, he let himself get lost in the music. It was upbeat and nearly impossible to resist. The moment he saw a bunch of others begin a dance that was more hopping about than anything, he joined in and continued on as the music and steps changed.

Nearly an hour later, he was flushed and happy and in dire need of a drink. The boy he was closest to as they all danced in a group followed him. The boy's expression was hard to read – on the surface, he appeared happy but there was a deep current of sadness underneath that made complete sense considering they'd all just survived a war mere months ago.

“Having fun?” Harry asked politely. Even his voice was different from normal.

The boy nodded. “Yeah, surprisingly. I thought tonight would be awkward, but I've been able to just let go and enjoy the music.”

“Yeah, same here,” Harry stated with a nod and a grin. “Maybe the Professors knew what they were doing after all.” He ruffled his sweaty and currently light brown hair, wondering what color his eyes were.

The boy with red hair and hazel eyes reminded Harry a lot of Bill Weasley – who was a person Harry occasionally had inappropriate dreams about. Harry considered himself mostly straight, but _damn!_ Bill could practically convert a bloke!

They both drank some punch, which was constantly monitored by McGonagall, so they knew that it was free from unauthorized potions. It was actually (and on purpose) very lightly spiked with champagne to give it a mildly effervescent effect without getting them drunk – unless they drank _a lot_ , which was also being monitored. No student was allowed more than one glass of champagne punch an hour, and the rest of the time had a variety of other drinks to choose from.

The moment he felt like he had a second wind, Harry smiled at the boy who reminded him of Bill. “Er... care to dance?”

The boy tilted his head to the side curiously. “Are you asking for us to rejoin the group, or do you mean together? Alone.”

“Either way,” Harry replied with a shrug. “I'm not fussed.”

It took the boy a moment to think this over as he stared vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. “Alright... why not?”

They walked over to a relatively clear spot on the edge of the floor, in a corner where a handful of other couples were dancing in pairs rather than as a group. Harry blushed and looked to the floor when they arrived.

“I, erm, I don't actually know how to dance,” he admitted in embarrassment.

“No problem. I can teach you.”

The lesson started out slowly. The boy took Harry in his arms and did a basic sway back and forth until Harry relaxed a bit. After that, actual steps were introduced one at a time until Harry felt he had a good grasp on them. Nearly an hour later, Harry knew an entire dance! It wasn't particularly complicated and Harry certainly wouldn't be winning any awards for it, but it made him feel like he wasn't in possession of two left feet after all.

Happy – in fact, far happier than he could remember being in his life – Harry gave the boy an impulsive kiss. The boy responded almost reflexively, but then gave Harry a curious and wary look.

“Does this mean that you are bent and trying to get into my pants?” The boy asked rather bluntly.

Harry flushed so red he felt like he was burning up from it. “No! Erm, well, I – er – th-that's not what–” he took a deep breath. “I wasn't, but I wouldn't... say no...”

The boy was silent for an eon or so as he thought this over carefully. “I also wouldn't say no, but... isn't there some sort of ethical problem to this? I mean... What if I turned out to be someone that you wouldn't shag if your life depended on it?”

Harry smiled a bit wryly. “The way I see it, you and I are complete strangers. We could have – and basically did – just meet at random. If we were at a muggle bar, we wouldn't think twice about having a one off, so why should this be any different?”

“Because there are a lot of people in this school who hate each other. It's not particularly wise to take such a risk. What if you're a... a... Death Eater...?”

Harry shrugged. “Doesn't matter. The war's over. Come on, before I lose my nerve!”

Practically dragging the other boy by the hand, Harry led him to the second floor girls' bathroom.

“Why here?” The boys asked as he looked around curiously.

Harry shrugged. “It's the _only_ place I could think of where absolutely no one will disturb us.” After all, he and his friends had once had the privacy to brew a potion that took more than a month without ever once being intruded on or caught by anyone. Unless he counted Moaning Myrtle, but chances were very good that since she didn't recognize them, she'd simply leave them alone – spying on them like a pervert.

It was strange, but Harry felt like he literally _had_ to do this. It was his first time and he was probably doing something utterly stupid, but... He couldn't quite explain it, but he felt like this was how it should be his first time. A one off with a stranger in the loo. A hopefully good shag that he could think of when he was alone, but that would give him an excellent example to compare to when he finally got with Ginny. After all, how can someone truly understand how good they have it – how special true love is – unless they have something to compare it to?

Harry shook his head slightly to banish the thoughts that were now running circles around his head. He had to do this before he lost his nerve. Well no... He _wanted_ to do this before he lost his nerve. With that in mind, he pulled his imminent lover close and kissed him.

The kiss was almost awkward at first. Hesitant because they were strangers who didn't know what the other liked. After a few seconds, Harry decided to just go for it, giving the kiss every bit of skill he'd learned back when he and Ginny had dated in his Sixth Year. The boy relaxed and melted into the kiss as well and suddenly, it was a hot and demanding mini-battle with their tongues.

They tore at each other's clothes – which had also been glamoured so that all the boys wore the same dashing set of formal robes in black. Harry licked, nipped, and kissed each bit of skin as it was revealed. He didn't actually take the other boy's clothes off, just opened the front and pushed the trousers down enough to grab hold of the long and thin shaft that was infused with so much blood that it was an interesting shade of dark pink. Despite never having done anything like this before, Harry instinctively knew just how to stroke that shaft with his hands. He also had an urge to lick it and figure out how to suck on it.

Harry realized that he _really_ had no idea what he was doing. He nearly stopped, but then decided that the boy was moaning happily, and thus, he must be doing something right. He also had an urge to keep practicing until he learned better techniques.

Suddenly, a hand seized his hair and yanked him away. “Wait!” The boy gasped out in a rough voice. “I need a minute or I'll...”

“... Alright...” Harry agreed, feeling puzzled. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? He looked around, half hoping that Moaning Myrtle would give him a thumbs up if he was doing things right, or perhaps gesture things to try if he wasn't. But if she was watching, he couldn't figure out where from.

The boy kissed him again, resuming things before Harry could drive himself mad with self-doubt. Unlike the boy's clothes, Harry's all migrated to the floor over the next few minutes. He moaned as his nipples were sucked on, making his toes curl. The moment Harry was naked, he was spun around and half bent so that he was forced to brace himself with a sink. It just so happened to be the same one that could open the Chamber of Secrets, but he wasn't going to think about that just now.

Gasping in shock, Harry was struck by the certainty that he hadn't been quite prepared for things to progress so rapidly. The other boy was obviously busy preparing Harry for entry. When he had gave a half second's thought to two boys shagging – right about the time he had suggested it to this boy – he'd sort of assumed that _he'd_ be the one doing the shagging but...

He took a deep breath and tried his best to relax as a tongue and a couple of fingers worked to soften and prepare him. In the mirror, Harry saw a wand appear in the boy's hand for a moment and closed his eyes to brace against the possibility that he was about to be hexed most painfully. To his profound relief, the boy cast spells to fully prepare and lubricate him instead of the expected hexes.

Harry barely had time to think: _Oh God! This is really happening!_ Before the boy shifted to stand behind him and grab his hips to hold him steady. One of those delicate looking hands shifted to reaffirm the location of Harry's soft pucker before holding that beautiful shaft steady and...

Harry closed his eyes and held his breath, half certain that this was going to hurt. He'd always heard that it hurt for girls when they lost their virginity, but he had always expected to be on the other side – the one doing the hurting. That thought strangely calmed his nerves. He _hated_ the idea of causing someone else pain, so maybe this was for the best after all.

To his relief, the other boy – that Harry was definitely imaging as Bill now – pushed into him gently. He gave Harry plenty of time to accept and adjust to the shaft in his arse before moving on. Eventually, he was buried tight and Harry opened his eyes to look at the other boy's reflection in the mirror. While he did definitely resemble Bill, there was something about him that reminded Harry of someone else. Someone Harry had never thought about like this before, but now imagined almost uncontrollably.

Closing his eyes again, Harry moaned as the boy moved inside him, feeling much better than expected. Images of platinum blond hair and pale gray eyes drifted through his mind. A disdainful sneer that usually vexed Harry to no end appeared on a set of lush lips, making Harry gasp again. He nearly finished right there and then!

This disturbed him enough that he determinedly opened his eyes and stared at the distinctive red hair that proved that this was _not_ the boy who had made Harry's life frustrating until, _well_... He decided to push all those thoughts from his mind before they could kill the mood.

The look of lusty concentration on the boy's face softened into a warm smile when he realized that Harry was watching him in the mirror. He reached around and grabbed hold of Harry's thick shaft, giving it a few toe curling strokes as he thrust in and out of Harry.

“Oh God!” Harry cried out, feeling the end nearing. His balls tightened. His breath stopped, making him sound strangled. A feeling like lava rolled over him, making his head spin. Finally, gripping the sink so hard his hands were white, he painted it and the floor with long pearly stripes.

As he did so, the boy gripped his hips for leverage and sped up just a little. His movements became jerky as he threw his head back and grunted several times in bliss. Harry felt something hot flood him and moaned as he realized that he liked the feeling. It was soothing, adding a strange niceness to his orgasm.

They both slumped a bit, Harry still using the sink for support as the other boy rested his head on Harry's naked back. After a moment, the boy's limp shaft slid free from Harry, letting out a warm gush that made Harry blush. To distract himself, he turned around and gave the boy a tender kiss that was now shy and far more nervous than he'd been earlier. What exactly was the protocol for saying goodbye after a highly satisfying one off?

The boy returned his kiss but seemed a bit hesitant. They pulled apart and Harry wondered if the boy thought he was being too... he wasn't sure honestly. Affectionate? Clingy perhaps? Expectant maybe?

The boy frowned ever so slightly as he traced a curious finger on the ovular burn-like scar on Harry's chest. A good look in the mirror proved that the famous scar on Harry's forehead was definitely hidden by the glamour, but the rest of his scars weren't. For an insane moment, Harry wondered if this was Ron, but the definite though unspoken curiosity to know more about the scar reassured him that it wasn't, since Ron would have recognized it back when they were still getting naked, and probably would have put a stop to things at that point. Hopefully.

Although, now that it had happened, Harry was happy enough with the experience that he supposed he could even accept _that_ if he had to. It just might be a bit weird and awkward for a few days.

The boy cleared his throat. “So... er... I should probably be getting back to my dorm.”

Harry felt inexplicably sad and disappointed. It's not like he had expected to now be in a relationship with this unknown boy, but... he mentally shrugged, again not quite sure what he was thinking. Maybe he had hoped for an entire night. Actually, yeah, that _was_ what he had hoped for.

“Er, wait... Do you think you could go again?”

The boy looked rather chuffed as he thought this over. “Well, not at this exact second, but... yeah.”

Grinning, Harry lay on his clothes on the floor and tugged on the boy's hand until he lay down on top of Harry. They gave each other fairly tender kisses that grew ever more heated as time passed. Suddenly, Harry had an urge to bite that was so overwhelming that he felt he had no choice but to shift his attention to that long and slender neck. It delighted him rather perversely to mar that milky white complexion with a pattern of dark spots like on a leopard.

Harry moaned happily as the love bites were returned. Then their lips fused once more and the boy shifted just enough to find Harry's still softened ring of muscles. This time when the long and thin shaft slid into Harry, he welcomed it eagerly. It didn't take more than a few seconds to adjust to what his body probably considered an intrusion.

Then they were grunting and groaning happily as they thrust together. Harry tried wrapping his legs around the other boy's waist at first, then shifted so that his feet were flat on the floor, which gave him better leverage. The first time, the pace had been rather moderate and careful. This time, it was hard and fast; a glorious pounding that had them both gasping and crying from the pleasure.

An astonishingly long time passed, but then something shifted again. Harry wasn't sure if they were both simply running low on energy or what, but the shagging turned into something that resembled lovemaking. A slower and more tender joining of bodies. Harry now had his legs wrapped around the other boy's waist again, and the other boy had his hands under Harry's back, gripping his shoulders as the two of them focused on kissing.

This time when Harry's orgasm arrived, it rolled over him so intensely that his whole body shook from it. He clung to the other boy, digging his nails into the boy's back. The hot mess that Harry squirted out between them made the other boy shiver and moan, his eyes fluttering closed as he surrendered to the moment and pumped Harry full again.

Chuckling very softly, Harry gave the boy a soft kiss. “You know, I'm rather surprised by just how much I like the feel of that.”

“Having an orgasm?” He asked curiously, one brow raised in an expression that Harry found so very familiar, although he still couldn't quite put his finger on why.

Harry laughed and shook his head. “No, having you orgasm inside me. It's... I dunno. Hot, I suppose, but soothing too. A little bit like icing on a fantastic cake.”

“Ah,” he murmured. Then he gave Harry a quick kiss before pulling out and rolling to the side. “I really do have to get back to my dorm now.”

“Why?” Harry wondered, feeling more curious than disappointed this time.

The boy smirked. “Because if I don't, I'll pass out and I don't fancy sleeping on this cold floor. I'll wake up all achy and stiff – and not in a good way.”

“Yeah, alright,” Harry murmured in agreement, watching as the boy who still very much looked like Bill fixed his appearance. His hair was wild and sweaty, which matched his very rumpled and disheveled clothes. Harry frowned as he realized that they never had gotten the boy fully undressed, simply uncovering the parts that were needed. As those long pale fingers buttoned up the white shirt, Harry caught a faint hint of what looked like scars on the lightly hairy chest. He bit his lip with a slight frown as he wondered what could have happened to cause such scars.

Unbidden, a terrible memory entered his head, making him squeeze his eyes shut and focus on his breathing. He forced the memory out of his mind, shaking his head slightly. Then he sat up and grabbed his shirt to put it on.

“Yeah, I'd like to get back to my dorm too. My bed seems to be calling my name very insistently.”

By this point, the other boy was dressed enough that he wouldn't break any school rules on the way back to his dorm, so he simply nodded at Harry in agreement. Then he cleared his throat.

“Erm, well, thanks for such an enjoyable evening.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Yeah, thanks. I can honestly say that I've never had a better time at a party.”

“Me either. Maybe they'll do the same thing for Christmas.”

“I'd like that,” Harry replied with a fond smile. Neither of them mentioned that the Random Glamour Charm would make them both look different so that they wouldn't know who the other was anyway.

“G'night,” the other boy bade as he walked away.

“Night,” Harry murmured in return as he buttoned up his shirt. After he finished dressing, he returned to his dorm. Halfway up the staircase, the clock chimed the midnight hour and the glamour evaporated. To his relief, the other boys were in their beds, all asleep except for Ron, who was reading a comic book borrowed from Seamus using the light from just his wand.

“Alright there Harry?” Ron asked in concern.

Harry stared at Ron's pajama covered chest for a moment as he remembered that Ron had thick red chest hair and no scars. Even so, he had to be sure. “Er, Ron... you didn't just come back from a one off in the loo, did you?”

“No, why? Oh! Er... no. It wasn't me,” Ron replied with a blush. He then gestured around the room. “And the others have been here a while, so it wasn't any of them either.”

Feeling inordinately relieved, Harry smiled. “Good.”

“So, er... How was it?” Ron wondered, tilting his head curiously.

Harry shrugged and smiled. “I liked it. If you want actual details, it'll have to wait until tomorrow. I'm exhausted. G'night Ron.”

“G'night Harry.”

Feeling better than he had in a long time, Harry went to bed, drifted off, and – best of all – didn't suffer from any nightmares.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes, I know exactly what George put in Harry's drink, and no, it wasn't a lust potion, lol :-D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several months after the masked Halloween Party, Harry is getting inexplicably fat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is like three times longer than the first one, lol. So I debated making it a part or a chapter and decided on chapter solely because I can't think of a good title for it, lol. I hope you like it :-)

Harry woke up on Christmas morning feeling a bit queasy. This was nothing new as he'd woken up feeling nauseous as a physical remnant of his nightmares almost every day since the Final Battle. He'd found that having a glass of milk in stasis on his bed side table helped enormously by calming him down and grounding him whenever he woke up in a mild panic from his nightmares.

Around the six month anniversary of the battle, which was the beginning of November, he noticed a lessening of his nightmares. As November progressed, his nightmares got less and less, so much so that by mid December, he'd enjoyed an entire week with none at all. However, he still had nausea in the mornings when he woke up, so he figured that he probably still had them, he just was used to them enough that he didn't wake up in agitation, nor did he remember them the next morning.

Still, having milk on hand was a trick that never failed to work, so he sat up this fine Christmas morning and drank the glass he had prepared the night before. Since he was staying at the Burrow for the hols, Ron was just a few feet away, snoring in his bed. Harry could smell bacon cooking down in the kitchen, indicating that Molly was probably already hard at work cooking up not just breakfast, but a feast for their holiday dinner. At first, the bacon smelled mildly repulsive, but as the milk worked to banish his queasiness, the smell grew ever more enticing until it was positively intoxicating.

This prompted Harry to get out of bed and wander down the stairs, not caring in the slightest that he was only wearing a ratty old tee shirt and a relatively new pair of pants that Hermione had gotten him just before they returned to Hogwarts for their Eighth Year. They were black with about a hundred small blue police call boxes on them – or in other words, a jumbled pattern of Tardises.

He and Hermione were big fans of the show; his favorite Doctor was the Fourth and Hermione's was the First because he was a proper British gentleman. Plus the First Doctor was from a time when the show still tried to be a little bit historically accurate – as far as they knew at the time of making the show – and not focused on the military and war as much as during the Fourth Doctor's time. Personally, Harry sort of liked Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart and found the story arcs with him in them funny.

Ron thought they were both barmy until Hermione finally invited Ron and Arthur over to her parents house to watch mini Doctor Who Marathons when the reruns were broadcast during the summer hols. Suddenly, Ron and Arthur were fans, having long debates on the merits of each Doctor and the various story arcs. Naturally, Ron found the arc called Planet of the Spiders to be highly disturbing.

Harry quietly snickered to himself as he thought about it. This brought him to Molly's attention. She promptly grinned as if she was seeing her favorite son for the first time in years.

“Harry dear! I expect you're hungry; sit! I'll have a plate ready for you in no time,” she promised even as she grabbed a plate and steadily piled a mound of food on it. There was not only the divine smelling bacon, but also sunny side up eggs, fried potatoes, sausage, buttered toast, black pudding and baked beans – but not the tinned stuff Harry was used to from the Dursleys. No, these were slow baked by Molly herself and tasted fabulous. The last thing Molly added to the plate was a couple of fried tomatoes, by this, Harry reckoned that she was determined to ensure that everyone ate as much food as she could possibly stuff in their stomachs today.

“Thanks Molly,” Harry murmured sincerely as she set the plate in front of him.

She gave him a strange look for a moment before plastering a smile on her face and summoning the pot of tea. “Here's tea, love. I've also got orange and pumpkin juice if you'd like.”

Harry may not always be the most observant bloke on the planet, but even he could tell that something was bothering her. “What's the matter?” He asked with a concerned frown.

“It's nothing,” Molly assured him even as she filled his cup with tea and made sure the milk was exactly as he liked it. She then held up the pitcher of milk. “I've noticed that you've been drinking a lot of milk lately, would you like a glass?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed with a nod, but then kissed her cheek as she bent over to fill his glass. “No seriously, what's wrong?”

She was silent as she finished filling the glass, and then slowly stood up straight. Finally, she sighed in defeat. “It's nothing, really, I just... Well, I'd really hoped that you'd be to the stage by now where you're comfortable, er...”

“What?” Harry asked with deep curiosity.

Another moment of silence preceded: “Calling me mum...”

Harry felt his eyes sting as tears welled up. He stood up abruptly and pulled Molly into a tight hug. This triggered a bout of tears in Molly as well.

“I've been trying hard not to push or guilt you into it if you're not ready, but I've considered you one of mine for ages,” she blubbered as she held him in return – possibly even tighter than Harry was holding her.

“So do I, but I always thought it would be too weird,” Harry murmured, feeling the tears slowly leak down his cheeks. “I thought I should ask everyone if they were fine with me calling you that, but then I never asked because I didn't want the answer to be no.”

“Oh Harry!” Molly wailed, sobbing on his shoulder from sheer happiness.

Harry sniffed in a futile attempt to stop the tiny stream of tears, swallowed a bit nervously, and then whispered: “Mum...”

Molly sobbed so loudly in response to that that Arthur, Ginny, Hermione, and even Ron came running to see what was wrong. Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George weren't home but had promised to be there in time for dinner. Thus, they weren't standing in the kitchen wondering what they hell was wrong.

“Er, mum? Why are you crying?” Ron asked, not best pleased to be awake so early on a day he'd planned for a nice lie in.

Rather than answer, Molly simply shook her head and continued to cry.

“Harry?” Ron probed, looking extremely concerned now.

Harry wasn't really in any state to answer either as he was too busy fighting back his emotions. Arthur walked over so that he could rub his wife's back soothingly.

“What is it, love?”

“I'm just so happy!” Molly finally blurted out.

“Then why are you crying?!” Ron asked in bafflement.

“Look at me, blubbering on over something so silly!” Molly exclaimed, releasing Harry and wiping her eyes with a handkerchief from her pocket. She gave Harry a kiss on his cheek. “Go on and eat before it grows cold!”

“Right,” Harry agreed as he sat down and focused on his plate so that he might stop crying as well.

Ron sat down next to Harry with a determined glare. “What did you do to make my mum cry?”

“Nothing,” Harry answered with a shrug, wiping his eyes with his tee. “I just... I guess I just suddenly realized that I've had a mum all these years after all.”

“Oh that,” Ron replied in profound relief. “Merlin and Godric, mate! I thought something serious had happened!”

“Oh Ron,” Hermione muttered with a shake of her head. “Something serious _did_ happen.” She and Ginny sat on the opposite side of the table from Harry and Ron.

“Yeah,” Ginny stated with a roll of her eyes. “Harry _finally_ realized that he's a true member of the family.”

“He did?” George asked, surprising them all since they hadn't heard him come through the floo. “About time!”

Harry was a bit floored. “So... So none of you will mind if I call Molly mum?”

“Mate! Doing so would make my mum's entire day!” Ron exclaimed with an amused snort.

“Which is the reason she's bawling, I expect,” Arthur added with a grin. “You can call me dad as well, Harry.”

Harry nodded but felt like he was still too emotional and couldn't quite speak.

Molly busied herself dishing everyone up and pouring tea. Breakfast was fairly quiet at first since everyone was still just waking up. Then the tea kicked in. Harry looked over at George, squinting suspiciously.

“Say George, what _did_ you put in my drink at the Halloween party?”

“What?” George asked, sounding genuinely baffled. Harry gave him a look that made it clear he wasn't buying George's BS. George shook his head wryly and sighed. “Alright fine. I wanted to test a new product – a potion that can grant a person's deepest wish. So long as it's magically possible, that is. It _couldn't_ make someone fall in real love with a person, nor bring anyone back from the dead – or anything like that. But so long as the thing a person wants is possible, the potion is supposed to grant it. The problem is that I can't quite tell if the potion works or not.”

“Er... why not?” Harry asked curiously.

“Well, the results aren't instantaneous or flashy,” George explained with a mildly frustrated shrug. “So, say your deepest wish at that moment had been to dance with Ginny, you may well have at some point that night, but she didn't just magically appear by your side asking for a dance, so I wouldn't know A – what your wish was, and B – whether or not it was granted.”

“Have you tested it out on anyone else?” Hermione wondered, sounding rather more interested than she usually was in George's products.

“Well, myself of course,” George stated. “With mixed results. I _think_ my deepest wish when I took it was dating Angelina, but I can't be certain. I did work up the courage to ask her out for drinks and she accepted, but it felt like two friends drinking at a pub instead of a date. She does say yes every time I ask though, so...” he shrugged again. “As I said, mixed results.”

“Did you give the potion to anyone else at the party?” Ron asked with interest. “I don't remember you giving me anything.”

“I didn't perform the Random Glamour Charm on you,” George replied. “So I didn't know which of the many boys in disguise you were, did I?”

“I suppose not,” Ron murmured in acceptance.

“I _did_ give the potion to a small handful of students who bought some wheezes, but I have no idea how to check if the potion worked for them,” George lamented. He then got a hopeful look on his face as he turned to peer at Harry. “Care to tell me if it worked on you?”

“Er...” Harry blushed. “Well, I'm not entirely sure either. I don't know what – if anything – I would have wished for, and I don't think I've gotten anything that could be considered a wish granted.” Unless one counted losing his virginity. Harry scratched a mild itch behind his ear before ruffling up the back of his hair. 

Rather than confess awkward details out loud, Harry conjured up a piece of paper and scrawled a hasty note on it.  _I did lose my virginity that night, so your potion probably worked._

After George read the note, he crumpled it up and cast an Incendio on it. Then he grinned impishly at Harry. “Excellent.”

“Define magically possible?” Arthur insisted with a speculative look on his face. “For example, if I deeply wished for a muggle telly to work in our parlor, would the potion grant that?”

George shrugged. “We could always try it and see.”

“We could watch Doctor Who!” Ron added enthusiastically.

With a nod, Arthur held out his hand expectantly. Looking a tiny bit sheepish, George pulled a small vial out of his pocket and handed it to his father. “It tastes terrible on it's own, but mixes fairly well with orange juice.”

“I see,” Arthur murmured, emptying the vial into his glass of juice and downing it. He then squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on _willing_ one of the telly boxes he had in his shed to work despite the high amount of ambient magic in the area.

Hermione laughed softly. “You know, I bet it wouldn't be hard to have a small generator power a few muggle devices here – such as a telly. You could choose between a windmill generator for a bit of “magical” whimsy or one powered by petrol or I think there's even a few that have a crank you turn by hand or pedal – which I'm sure you could spell to turn itself.”

“All good ideas,” Ron praised, knowing better than to argue with Hermione about anything.

“If it does work, does that count as a wish granted?” Ginny wondered with a slight frown.

“It does in my book!” Arthur proclaimed gleefully.

“Mine too,” George agreed with a fond smile at his father.

Ginny reached across the table and took hold of Harry's hand. “So, if you took that potion again, what would you wish for?”

Harry looked to the ceiling and bit his bottom lip as he thought this over. “Well... I think the only thing I've truly wanted as far back as I can remember is...” he paused and took a deep breath. “A family of my own, but today I realized that I already have that, so...” he trailed off with a helpless shrug and a shake of his head. “I don't think there's anything else I'd wish for.”

With a smile, Ginny squeezed Harry's hand before letting it go.

 

***

 

On the first day of February, the castle seemed to turn pink. Every girl Harry passed in the corridors discussed with alarming obsession the impending arrival of Valentine's day. This seemed to trigger an intense  _need_ for chocolate in Harry. He was ravenous in general, eating everything he could get his hands on and carrying apples and pasties in his pockets for snacks. 

Meanwhile, he was probably now Honeydukes best customer. He had put in a standing order to have delivered each morning: one bar of dark chocolate with sea salt and almonds; one bar with sea salt, caramel, and pecans; and one bar of plain, 80% dark chocolate. He couldn't get enough, popping squares in his mouth almost continually throughout the day to suck on – which wasn't the usual for chocolate, but Harry was afraid that he'd eat 20 bars a day if he didn't savor each square as much as possible.

And cherries! Suddenly cherries were his new favorite food! He could eat them by the bushel and had Kreacher bring him a bowl to devour while he worked on his homework before and after dinner each night.

Draco noticed this across the Eighth Year Common Room and snorted. He didn't intend it to be loud enough to call attention to himself, but Harry heard him anyway.

“What's crawled up your arse and died now, Malfoy?” Harry asked in a tone of challenge mixed with genuine curiosity.

Draco looked at the table where Harry was sitting and weighed his options. Harry – as per usual – was surrounded by Gryffindors. They could be far too quick to jump into a fight if even slightly provoked, so Draco wasn't entirely sure he wanted to say anything. On the other hand, he wasn't a complete coward – especially not when it came to one sodding Savior.

Inclining his head in an unconscious gesture of superiority, Draco met Harry's eyes. “Nothing. I just couldn't help but notice how fat you're getting now that you are determined to eat everything in sight.”

“Up yours, wanker!” Harry hurled rather petulantly.

“Not saying you're fat by any stretch of the imagination, mate, but you _have_ been eating a lot lately,” Ron remarked with a shrug.

“No one else would be allowed to eat in class,” Seamus muttered somewhat jealously. “But the Professors all pretend not to see when it's you.”

“Er...” Harry droned in confusion because while he _did_ remember eating in class on occasion, he didn't think he'd done it enough for everyone else to notice.

“I think you're just making up for, well...” Hermione trailed off, biting her lip and looking at the table rather than anyone in particular.

“What?” Harry asked curiously.

“I'm not sure you want me to say,” Hermione demurred.

“It's fine,” Harry assured her, feeling that there wasn't much about him that wasn't somehow public knowledge already anyway.

Hermione took a deep breath before looking Harry in the eye. “I think you're just making up for  _years_ of being starved as a child, and then even when you were here and had regular access to food, you'd stop eating every time you got stressed about Quidditch or Voldemort.  _Then_ we went on the run for nearly an entire year and we starved for most of it. So... Now that you have plenty of food and no stress other than studying for our NEWTs, I think you're eating more than you really should.”

“Huh...” Harry murmured in thought. “That does make some sense.”

Parvati leaned across and down the table to look him in the eye. “What does she mean by starved as a child?”

A quick glance around the room showed that everyone – even (and highly shockingly) Draco Malfoy – was now staring at him in concern.

“Er... well, my Aunt and Uncle, er...”

“They bloody _starved_ him!” Ron burst out in a tone that made it clear he found this the worst crime imaginable. “They locked him up too! Remember when we crashed a car into the Whomping Willow back in our Second Year? Well, that was the year that my brothers and I had to fly our car out to his house to break him free and feed him up a bit!”

“Ron...” Harry muttered, inexplicably _embarrassed_ by this information being told so freely.

“Well we did!” Ron blurted out. “Had to pull bars off your window, unlock your door, and steal your Hogwarts trunk out of the downstairs cupboard!”

Harry shrugged and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “They just didn't want me going back to school. They never wanted me to go in the first place and I wouldn't have if Hagrid hadn't basically come and forced them to let me.”

Ron snorted derisively. “As if muggle locks can stop magic!”

“Ron,” Hermione murmured in a soft tone that nonetheless conveyed that Ron was doing something he probably shouldn't.

“What?” Ron asked, sensing that he wasn't quite understanding something.

“Perhaps we should talk about our homework,” Hermione suggested.

“But wait,” Parvati protested. “How did we _not_ know this?” After all, this was the sort of thing that should have been reported to everyone who would listen until someone did something about it.

“Look,” Harry stated as firmly as he could considering that he was feeling unexpectedly emotional at the moment. “It's like this: I was raised in a cupboard until I got my Hogwarts letter and my Aunt and Uncle were shamed into giving me my own room. I was expected to cook, clean, and do most of the chores. I was _occasionally_ starved, and locked in my room only when I particularly infuriated my Uncle. I didn't _know_ this was, er, not normal. I always thought that it's just the way life was. It _sucked_ – sure – but if it was normal, then there was nothing to be done about it. I honestly thought that Ron's family was... unusually nice. I think I even thought that they were only that nice when I was around because I was a guest or something. It wouldn't have seemed strange to me at all if the twins were continually locked in their room for getting into trouble – only they weren't. It never occurred to me to wonder why; I just figured that Molly was going easy on them to make a good impression on me. It wasn't until relatively recently that I even understood that _they_ were the normal ones and my family... wasn't.”

He shrugged again. “So, what point would there have been in talking about it?”

“I can see your point,” Seamus stated with a shrug of his own. “Me da's always yelling at me about something or other and threatening to ground me. That's just the way it is and it doesn't mean he doesn't love me or nothing like that.”

Harry snorted a bit derisively. “Well, in my case, my Aunt and Uncle  _didn't_ love me! When they found out that I had so many opportunities to die and hadn't managed it yet, they were so disappointed. When Dementors attacked me and nearly Kissed my cousin – just before Fifth Year – they never believed that I saved Dudley rather than use my magic to bully him. Tried to throw me out onto the street, but I was so worked up that I considered actually hexing them no matter that it would have gotten me expelled and whatnot.”

“Then you had to have a hearing in front of the Wizengamot,” Ron added, snorting derisively himself now. “A _full_ hearing with the _entire_ Wizengamot assembled to what should have been a minor hearing if anything.”

“I heard about that from my Aunt,” Susan Bones murmured softly. “She never could understand what the Minister for Magic was thinking that day. Trying to convict a _child_ of egregious misuse of magic for simply defending himself. From Dementors no less!” 

“Welcome to my life,” Harry grumbled under his breath. Then he turned to Hermione. “Anyway, I think you're probably right. Now that _can_ eat, I'm going overboard – _not_ that I think I'm getting fat,” he added with a glare in Draco's direction.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Fine, don't believe me, but you are. Most of the clothes you wear are so worn out and baggy that no one would notice if you had a beer belly, but you do own a few button down shirts – such as the one you're wearing right now. Presumably you bought them so that they fit correctly, which means that the fact that the bottom button is straining to hold you back is a clear indication that you are getting fat, Potter. Not surprising considering that you've eaten half a bowl of cherries, a treacle tart, and a meat pasty in the last half hour – and that's  _after_ eating a veritable feast for dinner.”

Harry raised a brow in surprise. “I didn't realize you paid such close attention to me, Malfoy.”

“Hardly,” Draco sneered with an expression that made it clear he thought Harry was a blithering idiot.

Rolling his eyes, Harry returned his attention to Hermione. “Do you think that could explain why I feel perpetually exhausted even though I'm sleeping better than ever?”

“Well, sure,” Hermione replied with a shrug. “I don't see why not. So wait, you mean your nightmares have stopped?”

“Not completely,” Harry informed her. “I still have them once or twice a week, but that's _loads_ better than two or three times a night.”

Hermione positively beamed at him. “I'm so glad! And yes, your body is more than likely trying to recover all that sleep you missed out on when Voldemort was messing with your head.”

Harry absently rubbed his scar with his left pointer finger. “It hasn't hurt once since, well, you know.”

“Good,” Hermione stated with a soft smile.

Harry shut his book with a yawn so deep his eyes watered. “I think I've learned as much as I can tonight. I'm going to bed.”

“Goodnight Harry,” all of the Gryffindors and most of the others wished reflexively.

“G'night all,” Harry returned as he cast a spell to gather up all his belongings and cram them in his bag.

“Night Harry,” Hermione murmured absently, clearly absorbed in her report. “I'll look over what you've finished in the morning.”

“Thanks. Love you,” Harry murmured as he kissed her on the cheek. 

“Love you too,” Hermione stated, returning the kiss on the cheek. This had become something of a routine between them so no one mistook it for a shocking confession of romantic love.

Ron gave his girlfriend an actual kiss before standing up. “I think I'll turn in too.” He held out his hand towards Harry. “I'll carry that apple turnover for you, mate.”

Harry laughed and handed it over. “I was going to ask Kreacher to bring me a slice of Cherry Cheesecake anyway.”

“That sounds good too,” Ron said with a moan of anticipation.

“I'll have him bring extra,” Harry promised with a smile as they left the common room.

 

***

 

By March, Harry had to admit that he actually was getting fat. This was embarrassing to him because it was not something he had ever expected to happen to him. Imagine! The scrawny and malnourished kid getting fat!

Even so, the pudgy bulge was easy enough to hide with his baggy shirts and the standard Hogwarts robes. Only the fact that none of his trousers fit unless he left them unzipped troubled him. Everything else he could shrug off as an embarrassing but acceptable fact of life. More than that, it could almost be considered a badge of honor! He was now at a point in life that he could gain weight. It was sort of something to be proud of. Happy at the very least.

Determined to accept his new body no matter what, Harry ignored the weight gain and pudge. He wore baggy clothes not so much to hide it but because that was mostly what he had. It wasn't until closer to the end of March when his lower stomach resembled a beer belly and his trousers no longer fit despite being unzipped that Harry wondered if maybe he should be concerned after all.

For days, he bit his lip and debated asking Hermione for advice. Only the fact that he was half certain that she'd tell him he was cursed and would have to visit Madam Pomfrey – and thus be confined to hospital until she cured him – made him hesitate. He  _hated_ the idea of having to visit the hospital wing now that he wasn't injured or anything.

Maybe he could avoid the whole situation and just ask her to fix the actual problem. “Oi, Mione,” he blurted out after most of the Eighth Year students had skived off to bed for the night. The hard core studiers – which was Hermione, most of Ravenclaw, and (perhaps ironically) Draco Malfoy – were left. Plus Harry since he was back to not sleeping as much as he wanted again. He kept tossing and turning uncomfortably. Not to mention getting up to use the toilet two or three times each night. “Do you know any charms to adjust the fit of my trousers? I need them to be a little bigger, er, mostly in the waist.”

Draco snorted from his seat across the room. “I  _told_ you you're getting fat!”

“Fuck off, Malfoy!” Harry hurled in an almost fond tone of voice. The two of them hadn't really talked to or antagonized each other all year, and since they had some confusing history between them involving near accidental murder _and_ life saving, well... Harry sort of _was_ fond of him now. Not fond enough to call him a best friend and take him out drinking at a pub, but fond enough that he sort of missed all the sarcastic insults they used to fling at each other.

Harry frowned in thought for a moment as he realized that it was true. He  _actually_ missed verbally sparring with the Slytherin git.

Hermione was humming softly in thought. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure I read a spell... Stand up and lift your shirt so I can cast the spell.”

“Er... I'd prefer if we went to the bathroom or my dorm. Actually, in my dorm, you could fix _all_ my trousers,” Harry pointed out.

Hermione checked her watch. “If I did that now, I'd probably wake up Ron and the others. It's nearly midnight, after all.”

“Oh, right,” Harry murmured in disappointment.

“Besides, if I cast it on what you're wearing now, you'll learn the spell and be able to cast it yourself whenever you need to,” Hermione added reasonably. “So come on, stand up.”

“Er... no. I don't think I will. Come to my dorm tomorrow and teach it to me then.”

Hermione actually looked up from the book she was reading on advanced charms. “What's the real problem, Harry? I  _know_ you're not particularly modest, so why are you acting so shy?”

“He's probably trying to hide the fact that he's got a raging hard-on – since he was obviously daydreaming rather than studying,” Terry Boot said in a way that reminded Harry of Seamus or the Weasley twins – that is to say playful and joking rather than mean or bullying.

“Thanks Terry,” Harry muttered wryly, actually grateful for a believable excuse.

Hermione crossed her arms and stared at Harry with an expression that made it clear that she wasn't buying it. With a chuckle, Harry grabbed her hand and slipped it inside his robes to make her feel that thing he was calling an impressive beer belly. As expected, her eyes went wide from shock.

“Harry! That's... That's really big!”

Now laughing, Harry grinned mischievously at her. “You think? I always thought I was average.”

Hermione withdrew her hand from his robes and smacked him on his bicep. “Not that!” She exclaimed with a blush. Standing up, she grabbed Harry's hand. “Come on, we should go to the loo after all.”

“Whoa!” Padma blurted out in surprise. “Er... are we supposed to keep this a secret from Ron?”

“For the love of,” Hermione muttered. “It's not like that!” Then she rolled her eyes and shook her head as she decided to play along. “Besides, what do you _think_ the three of us did all those months alone in a tent in the middle of nowhere with nothing else to do? I'm dead certain Ron will wonder why you're making such a fuss.”

Harry was practically roaring with laughter by this point.

“Honestly,” Hermione muttered as she dragged him away.

When they were in the communal shower room/loo for the Eighth Years, Hermione shoved Harry into one of the shower stalls, pulled the curtain closed, and then cast privacy spells on it to prevent anyone from opening the curtain or hearing anything that was happening inside.

Still sniggering, Harry shook his head. “And Ravenclaws think they're so smart! If we were  _really_ longtime shagmates, would you have actually been so surprised when everyone thought I'd made you grope me?”

“Good point,” Hermione acknowledged with a smirk as she opened Harry's robes and pushed his shirt up. Then she bit her lower lip in concern. “Harry... This isn't normal. If you were just getting fat, you'd, er... be doing it fairly evenly. This is all concentrated in your abdomen, and it's hard to the touch.” She stopped worrying just long enough to giggle at that. “I should have said that too! _Oh Harry, that's so big and hard! Let's go examine it thoroughly in the loo_!”

Harry roared with laughter all over again until a thought made him sober up rather abruptly. “Then everyone would want to see it for themselves and they'd be disappointed that it's not massive after all.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Girls don't actually like massive ones, I hope you realize.”

“Wouldn't know, never been with a girl before,” Harry admitted with a shrug and a light blush.

“Just a one off in the loo with a boy,” Hermione added, biting her lip in concern again. “I wonder...” she felt his nearly Quaffle sized bulge all over again. “Have you noticed anything, er, _unusual_ about this.”

“That it exists!” Harry exclaimed with a laugh. “But I decided that it's okay and maybe even a good thing if I get a little fat.”

“No, I mean things like, erm... how do I put this? Does... does it move?” Hermione questioned, looking like she almost expected Harry to get angry with her.

“I dunno. I suppose it sometimes feels like I have a lot of gas circling around in there. Actually, yeah! I bet that's it! I have a block or something and so gas is building up, making me feel bloated. No wonder it's so round! You're right, it'd probably be soft and flabby if it was just fat.”

Hermione looked like she couldn't quite decide whether to laugh or cry. Laughing won out when she snickered softly. “Oh Harry... Here, let me cast a spell to test a theory.”

Harry swept his hands out wide. “Have at it.”

After a moment's thought, Hermione remembered the spell she needed and cast it on Harry's bulge. “Gravida Probatur!” The result was Harry lit up a brightly golden yellow. “Oh  _ Harry _ ...” she murmured in a tone of reverent awe.

Harry was looking at himself curiously. “What's that spell? Why are you looking so – Hermione! Please tell me I'm not dying or something!”

“Quite the opposite,” she replied in a soft and soothing voice. “You're full of life. You're...”

“What? Bloated from excessive magic?” Harry asked with an amused snort.

“Pregnant.”

“...”

“...”

“... What?” Harry asked when she did  _ not _ burst into laughter and confess that she was joking as he expected.

“You're pregnant,” she repeated, her eyes a mixture of seriousness, curiosity, excitement, but most importantly, certainty.

Harry shook his head. “I'm what now?”

“Pregnant,” she stated patiently.

“No, uh-uh, no way, that's not possible. You're trying to wind me up, aren't you? Well, ha ha. Now, what's really wrong with me?” Harry demanded.

“I'm serious, Harry! You're pregnant!”

“Stop saying that!” He shook her rather roughly to get his point across, which made her bushy hair form a wild halo around her face. Their confined space was rapidly heating up, making sweat trickle from both of them.

“But it's true!” Hermione insisted. To drive her point home to him, she yanked his robe and tee shirt off, tossing them to the floor so that there was nothing to hide his baby bump. Then she pointed at it emphatically. “That is a baby, Harry! You. Are. Pregnant!”

Harry yanked on his hair and roared in frustration. “That's. Not. Possible!”

Tired of sweating, Hermione stripped off her robe, unbuttoned the top half of her shirt, and pulled the lower half out of her skirt so that she could fan herself with it. “Well normally no, but if a powerful wizard takes a fertility potion, he can grow a temporary womb and get pregnant.”

“I didn't know that,” Harry muttered, then shook his head. “Doesn't matter, I never took any such potion. Thus, not possible.”

Hermione sighed a bit wearily, slumping against the wall. This pushed her hair forward, making it stick to her face, she pushed it out of her face impatiently. “Apparently it is.” She sighed and rubbed her temples. “Look, just go see Madam Pomfrey tomorrow. She'll be able to cast better spells – ones that can tell us how far along you are and maybe even how this happened. If it was a curse or something, or a serious disease that makes you look pregnant and pass a pregnancy test, well, she'll be able to tell you. All I can say right now is that you look about...” she bit her lip in thought and tilted her head side to side. “I don't know, six months? Yeah, about five or six months along – which is pretty far considering that you've had no medical care. I suppose that all the eating you've been doing has helped,” she added with a wry smirk.

Harry was now frowning and staring at the floor. “I'm not saying you're right, but... Six months... That would be...”

“Sometime toward the end of October or all of November.”

Harry felt like someone punched him in the gut. “Halloween. It's the  _ only _ time I had sex. In my life,” he added with a soft grumble. He'd told her about his one off, but he hadn't really given her all the details, just that he'd lost his virginity, that it was with a boy, and that he'd really liked it. She'd also asked a few mechanical details, which he'd provided with a hot blush, but her interest was motivated by concern, so he trusted her.

“And didn't you say you were the, er, bottom partner,” Hermione pointed out. “That  _ would _ be the only way that  _ you _ could be the pregnant one.”

“Oh God!” Harry gasped out in dismay. More and more, the evidence was pointing to the fact that she was right. He still wanted to deny it because the alternative was very fucking scary! He shook his head again. “But still! This can't be possible! I didn't take any potions, and I only drank things that had been scanned by McGonagall – so I  _ know _ they were clean!”

Hermione gave him a mildly pitying look. “Except for the potion George gave you...”

Harry felt his knees go weak and slumped against the wall opposite her. His hands yanked on his highly sweaty hair again, making it stick out in spiky clumps. “ _ Nooo _ ... No! He said it was a potion to grant wishes! There's no way that  _ this _ is what I wished for!”

Hermione sighed, definitely sounding weary now. “He also said that it could grant any wish that was magically possible and  _ you _ said that your only wish for as long as you can remember was having a family, ergo,” she flung her hands out to indicate his baby bump. “This.”

Harry was suddenly panting so heavily that it almost felt like he couldn't breathe. “No no no no no...”

Growling, Hermione yanked a bit on her own hair. “Fine! Don't believe me!” She threw open the curtain, stomped over to the door and opened it so forcefully that it banged against the wall. “You're exhausting, Harry, and I can't take anymore tonight! I'm going to bed!”

Harry grabbed his robe and shirt, unconsciously pressing them to his stomach as he grabbed her robe and rushed after her. “Wait! You forgot your robe!” He called after her when he emerged from the bathroom into the Common Room. He was still panting and now felt a bit chilled as the cooler air dried his sweat soaked skin.

“I'll get it from you tomorrow when we finish this,” Hermione half yelled from the bottom of the stairs leading up to the girls' dorms.

“Yeah alright,” Harry muttered in agreement, adding her robes to the bundle of clothes he was carrying. “G'night, love you.”

“Night, love you too,” she replied, blowing him a kiss since she was nowhere near his cheek.

“Must've been some shag,” Terry said, rather impressed by their highly disheveled appearance.

Harry went bug-eyed as he realized how this appeared. Especially considering the jokes they'd made before! “Er...” Looking around, he decided that his best course of action was to just say nothing at all. Everyone was staring at him in amusement except for Draco, who was staring at his chest as if looking through him like a ghost – his eyes wide and round and rather creepy, which made Harry feel inexplicably self-conscious. “Goodnight all.”

“Goodnight,” the Ravenclaws all murmured in return as Harry fled to his dorm.

 

***

 

“Bloody fucking buggering hell!” Harry and Ron burst out in unison.

“Language!” Madam Pomfrey chided crossly but didn't take away any House points because the news was rather shocking.

The morning had started with Hermione shaking both boys awake before anyone else wanted to even  _ think _ about waking up. She then insisted that they follow her to an empty classroom where she provided them with a large breakfast obtained from the ever eager to provide house-elves. As they all ate, Hermione explained to Ron what had happened; that Harry was pregnant according to the spell she had cast on him in the bathroom.

Harry added a warning letting him know that everyone thought they had shagged dirty rotten, and that he hadn't had the bollocks to correct them. Ron chuckled, finding it funny since he trusted that they weren't interested in each other like that. Hermione laughed and added the fact that she'd rather led everyone to believe that the three of them had been shagging since their time on the run. Ron rolled his eyes and laughed at that too.

Harry snorted as he shoved a fat sausage in his mouth. “I don't care  _ what _ she says, I'm  _ not _ pregnant!”

“There's no way, right?” Ron both stated and asked in agreement.

After finishing their breakfast, Hermione insisted that they go to the hospital wing. Fairly quickly, the Mediwitch confirmed Hermione's diagnosis, prompting the duet of incredulous swearing. Hermione snorted rather smugly.

“I  _ told _ you!”

Ron and Harry exchanged glances. “Mate, when has she ever been wrong?”

Harry sighed. “But... that means I'm pregnant!”

“You are, Mr. Potter. Precisely 23 weeks and 4 days – according to my spell – or in other words, six months gone,” Pomfrey informed him as she cast a different spell that projected a holographic image of the baby. “The baby looks to be well formed and coming along nicely. It's... It's a boy – congratulations, you have a son! Or well, you will, provided that you take good care of yourself and this wee lad. Shall I tell you everything you need to know?”

Harry was staring at the hologram spell of the baby in both fascination and horror. “That's... That's  _ inside _ me?!” He asked in incredulous disbelief, his hands rubbing his hard round bulge.

“Yes,” Pomfrey confirmed with an indulgent smile. “Our spells have put those muggle devices to shame for longer than they've been around – centuries really. You can see the baby as it actually looks inside you, and he's already quite handsome like his father – if I do say so myself. At this stage, he's tiny – about 30cm and 600 grams, more or less. A bit like an ear of corn swimming about inside you. He could live with magical help if something went wrong and you had to deliver, but obviously, it's best for him to stay in there and grow. Er... you, erm, you  _ do _ plan to keep him, right, Mr. Potter? You should know that by law, we're not  _ supposed _ to abort a foetus this far along, but there are spells you could use if...” she trailed off with a morose sigh.

Harry waved his hands a bit frantically. “I couldn't do that! I didn't even want to kill Voldemort!”

Pomfrey exhaled in relief. “Good! Not that I wouldn't support your choice, dear, but it's never pleasant to think about.”

Ron and Hermione each took one of his hands and squeezed it. “We'll be there for you every step of the way,” Ron promised, looking rather teary eyed as he gently pressed his other hand to Harry's abdomen.

“Every step,” Hermione confirmed.

Madam Pomfrey looked between the three of them curiously. “So, erm... who's the other father? He should probably be here for emotional support and another set of ears to learn all the important things to know about pregnancy.”

Harry laughed when he realized that the Mediwitch was giving Ron a significant look. “It's not Ron!”

Ron snapped his attention to Harry before whipping to gape at Madam Pomfrey. “You think that I...” he pointed at Harry's stomach. “Did this?!”

“Well, it would make a sort of sense,” Pomfrey replied with a shrug.

“It wasn't me!” Ron protested in alarm.

Harry chuckled. “No. I actually don't know who it was. It happened during that Halloween party where we were all glamoured to look like someone else.”

Despite the fact that they had already thoroughly explained – well, Hermione had – that Harry hadn't known he was pregnant even though it was fairly obvious before last night, Madam Pomfrey glared at Harry in disapproval. “What on earth possessed you to take a fertility potion and have sex with a complete stranger, Mr. Potter?!”

“I didn't!” Harry protested indignantly. “Take the potion on purpose, that is. I didn't take a  _ fertility potion _ at all! George said he gave me a potion designed to grant wishes!”

“Never heard of such a thing,” Pomfrey said, mildly haughty. Then she shook her head. “But if such a thing existed, the fact that it came from George Weasley should have been your first clue not to take it!”

“Er... you're not wrong,” Harry admitted with a shrug.

Pomfrey sighed to release all her unprofessional feelings. “In any case, what's done is done. You're due around the 24 th of July, which means that you won't be here for me to deliver the baby – unless you're premature, which I can do my best to prevent. There's a potion created specifically for the rare wizard pregnancy to ensure the baby makes it to term. Thus, you won't be here. Since you're an adult, I cannot discuss any aspect of this with anyone without your explicit permission. That said, I highly encourage you to speak with the Headmistress so that she can grant you permission to visit a Healer at St. Mungo's. You're going to want to know who to call when the time comes.”

Still feeling like he simply  _ had _ to be dreaming, Harry nodded. “I understand.”

“Off you go for now,” Madam Pomfrey dismissed bruskly. “I'll put together all the information you need to know in a handy binder and gather up all the potions. I'll have to order some, but I should have everything ready by Monday. Come and see me again and we'll take another peek at the little darling, shall we?”

This strangely made Harry happy and gave him something to look forward to. He nodded again with a soft smile. “I'd like that.”

Still holding a hand from each of his best friends, Harry led the way to the great hall where the rest of the castle was now eating breakfast. He wasn't exactly hungry yet, but he had nothing better to do at the moment and had an intense craving for cold milk and fried ice cream. Unfortunately, only one of those was readily available.

As they approached the Gryffindor table, Seamus smirked at them. “So it's true what they're saying?”

“Er...” Harry droned in confusion.

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Yes Seamus, the three of us are together – didn't you realize?”

Ron snorted in amusement. “Oh, that.”

Harry raised a brow as he glanced back and forth between his best friends. He really felt like someone should explain things, but then he realized that explaining things meant that he'd have to tell everyone that he was pregnant, and suddenly, pretending to be in a threesome relationship sounded so much better. Chuckling, he sat down at the table and reached for the pitcher of milk – letting go of Hermione's hand but not Ron's.

“Anyone else want to stick their nose in our business?” He challenged, bringing Ron's hand close to his mouth as if he was going to kiss it as he looked around the table.

“Nope,” Seamus stated with a shake of his head.

Dean sighed rather morosely. “This means he wins the bet.”

“What bet?” Ron asked as he reclaimed his hand and grabbed an apple danish with it.

Dean shrugged before answering. “Oh... back in Fifth or Sixth Year, most of the castle placed bets on which of you Hermione would have as her boyfriend – it was actually pretty even odds. Seamus and just a few others jokingly bet that she'd have you both.”

“ _ Oh really _ ?” Hermione asked with interest.

Dean huffed a small laugh. “Doesn't really matter though since we declared Ron the winner when you two officially started dating.”

“Hey now!” Seamus interjected. “I think this counts – that the bet hadn't truly ended before because the terms stated that it had to be before they left Hogwarts, and they're still here, aren't they?”

“Yeah, but,” Dean tried to argue, but Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot sat down so that they could join the conversation.

“Actually, Seamus is right. The terms  _ did _ specify before leaving Hogwarts,” Anthony stated. 

“And it was agreed that the term both  _ could _ refer to one and then the other  _ or _ at the same time, thus declaring Ron the official winner was not only in error, but a clear violation of the rules,” Terry added. “Like a misdeal in poker.”

“No, I agree with Dean,” Ernie Macmillan stated. “Once a winner was declared, the bet was officially over, and there's no use going back on it now.”

“You're only saying that because you won the bet with the erroneous declaration!” Anthony argued.

“Exactly!” Justin Finch-Fletchley cried out, squeezing himself onto the suddenly crowded bench.

“Stay out of this!” Ernie insisted. “You bet on Harry, so you've lost either way!”

“So good to know just how interested in our love lives our classmates are,” Ron muttered wryly.

Hermione looked mildly horrified. Then she smirked almost evilly. Leaning around Harry, she held his and Ron's head together so that only they could hear her whisper.

“Let's get in on this bet by betting that I choose someone else. Then, on the last of school, or maybe a couple of days before that, I'll ask Ginny to let me snog the hell out of her and hold hands every chance we get. Not only will we win, but everyone else will learn to mind their own business!”

Ron looked speculative for a moment before grinning as he obviously imagined the scenario. Suddenly he looked utterly repulsed as he remembered that his sister was part of this plan.

“Why not Luna instead?” He suggested in a whisper.

Hermione shrugged.

Harry sniggered merrily for a few seconds before whispering in their ears. “No! Bet something utterly barmy, such as  _ Hermione _ getting  _ me _ pregnant. On the last day or so of school, I'll show off my baby bump and we'll win!”

Ron howled with laughter while Hermione laughed so hard that she had to bury her face in the crook of her arm and pound on the table. Meanwhile, Harry was sniggering as merrily as ever.

“Something amuses you?” Draco drawled in a tone that was remarkably Snape like. He hadn't planned to say anything but they'd erupted just as he was walking by on his way out of the great hall and curiosity had grabbed hold of him and demanded that he ask.

Harry was in far too great a mood to be bothered by anything at the moment, so he aimed a brilliant grin at Draco. “Yep! Hermione can perform miracles – we'll show you later on why she really is the brightest witch of the century!”

“Er... alright...” Draco murmured slowly, not wanting to provoke anyone, but honestly dying to know what the actual joke was. He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then gathered up his meager courage. “Can I ask...”

Curious and still in high spirits, Harry rolled his hand as if ordering Draco to get on with it. “Ask what?”

“Well, I noticed something when you were running around the Common Room half naked last night and, er... when and how did you get that scar on your chest?” Draco asked, drawing an oval on his own chest to illustrate the point.

Harry tilted his head to the side and frowned lightly as he wondered why Draco cared. “Well... that's a bit of a long story and I'm not sure I have time to tell it right now.”

“Nonsense Harry!” Ron burst out in glee. “It's a pretty heroic tale – if I do say so myself! There I was, shivering my arse off in a dark forest when I spotted Harry following a glowing doe Patronus. It led him to a freezing lake, which Harry promptly dove into. I thought he was barmy, of course, and ran over to take the mickey out of him, but then I realized that he was drowning. There was a cursed locket around his neck and it wouldn't let him out of the lake and was doing its best to strangle him in the process. So naturally, I pulled him out and saved his life, destroying the locket in the process.” Ron was rather puffed up in pride by this point.

“Actually, Ron, you have it wrong,” Hermione stated in that know-it-all tone of hers. “The locket actually burned him while trying to strangle him as Nagini bit him and it was  _ I _ who saved him by blasting her away and exploding the room just before Voldemort arrived and Harry grabbed me and we jumped out the window so I could Apparate us to safety, phew! I also had to use a cutting hex to get the damn thing off him and heal him before he died from Nagini's bite, thank you very much.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Yeah, thanks again for that. As I understand it, I was literally linked to Voldemort so that I couldn't have died unless he killed me or was already dead, but I'm fairly sure I could have bled to death and become an Inferius or something.”

Draco looked away as he scratched the back of his neck and grumbled: “I sort of heard about that. The Dark Lord shouted in outrage about not catching you when I was home for Christmas hols. It vexed Him to no end that He basically had you in His grasp, too weak to escape on your own, but the Mu – er...  _ she _ rescued you. She had a rather gruesome death sentence waiting for her if  _ He _ ever caught her, so...” he shuffled about awkwardly. Then he purposely looked at Hermione and took a deep breath. “I'm glad you escaped before He returned  _ that day _ . I honestly didn't want to see what He planned to do to you – and I bet you think my Aunt was bad.”

Harry grabbed one of Hermione's hands while Ron reached across him to grab the other. She was silent for a moment as she accepted their comfort. Then she took a deep breath of her own and nodded. “Thank you, Malfoy. It means a lot to me to hear you say that.”

Luna startled him and utterly baffled him at the same time by throwing her arms around him and hugging him tight. He hadn't even realized that she was standing next to him! She then gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning, Draco,” Luna purred. “I realize that they weren't in the Manor long enough to see it, but you were always kind to me. I feel like we got to be great friends while I was held captive in the dungeon and tortured at random. I've missed talking to you and I feel like you've been avoiding me.”

“You what? You have?!” Draco blurted out incredulously.

“I wouldn't mind visiting you after we all graduate,” Luna informed him with a serene smile. “It'll be lovely to see more of the Manor. I bet the gardens are gorgeous and  _ full _ of rare magical creatures that have lived there for centuries. Do you have dirigible plums?”

“Er...” Draco droned, flustered and honestly having  _ no idea _ how to respond to any of that. He gently pulled her arms off him. “I'm going to be late to class. I'll talk to you later, Luna.”

She gave him one of her most brilliant smiles. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he stated as he walked away, going as fast as he could without looking like he was running away like a coward.

Still smiling rather dreamily, Luna turned to Harry. “So... are you finally ready to talk about the changes in your Aura?”

“Er...” Harry murmured in confusion. He was hit by the thought that she was probably the one person that could see exactly what was going on just by glancing at him. “No! Not-not right now. Later maybe.”

Visibly saddened but still smiling, Luna nodded in acceptance. “Alright Harry, I'll wait until you're ready.” With that, she turned around and wafted away.

 

***

 

The Headmistress – who still taught Transfiguration because she hadn't found a qualified replacement yet – quietly spread the word to the staff that Harry had a valid medical condition that required special allowances. For example, if Harry said he had to visit the loo several times a class, they were to let him without question. Thankfully, he could usually manage to make just one trip each class – unless it was a double class that took twice as long.

“ _ Merlin! _ I feel like I practically  _ live _ in the loo these days!” Harry complained to his best friends when he returned to class from his most recent trip.

Draco overheard him and snorted. “We should all be so lucky as to skive off without reprimand! What exactly do you do in there, Potter? Your makeup? You obviously don't give a damn about you hair, and it looks like you use far too much rouge...”

“Sod off Malfoy!” Harry snapped crankily. “You have no  _ idea _ what it's like!”

“What what's like, Potter? Being the world's Golden Boy? You're right, I don't,” Draco growled a bit angrily.

“No! Being –” Harry cut himself off with a vibrantly red flush. “Nevermind! Just mind your own business, Malfoy!”

“Gentlemen!” McGonagall snapped. “If you could please stop disrupting class, there's only a week left before –” 

“We know!” Harry burst out, tearing at his hair and rolling his head around on his shoulders in frustration. “Who could possibly forget our NEWTs with all this obsession with them?! I'm ready to call it quits and just sleep until it's time to take them!”

McGonagall frowned in concern. “Are you feeling well?”

“Not particularly,” Harry grumbled petulantly. “I hurt all over and I just want to scream.”

“Very well, Harry, please go see Madam Pomfrey. I'm sure she has something that can help manage your... symptoms...”

Harry sighed in relief, praying that she was right. “Thanks Professor.”

“They say that lots of students go mad or nearly die as the NEWTs approach,” Seamus observed as if at random. “Say Professor, I think I'm starting to see things that aren't there. Perhaps I should go see Madam Pomfrey as well.”

“Ha!” McGonagall scoffed. “Nice try, Mr. Finnegan, but I'm quite sure you're fine.”

“Worth a shot,” Seamus stated with a careless shrug.

“Ow!” Draco gasped rather suddenly, shaking his non wand hand a bit frantically.

“Really, Mr. Malfoy!” McGonagall chided sternly. “Making such a mistake at your level! Go see Madam Pomfrey so that she can return your hand to normal.”

Draco glared at her as he got to his feet. “It's not like I transfigured my hand on purpose! I was aiming at the footstool, but listening to you fawn all over Saint Potter made me sick to my stomach and threw off my aim!”

McGonagall gave him a withering stare. “All in all, Mr. Malfoy, I'd say that your transfiguration was almost passable. You managed to successfully create a cat, it just seems to be dead.”

Draco gave his hand a highly queasy look before shoving it in his robe pocket.

“Come on, Malfoy,” Harry said with a weary sigh. “We might as well walk together.”

“And try not to fight!” McGonagall called after them.

Neither made any promises. On the way to the hospital wing, Draco focused on Harry so that he wouldn't think about his hand. He frowned in something resembling concern.

“So, er, what actually is wrong with you?”

“What?” Harry asked, distracted by his own tumultuous thoughts. In just a few weeks, school would officially be over and Harry would be out on his own with a baby due at any time. He had  _ nothing _ he'd need to care for his impending son, and he'd been too busy with studying for his NEWTs to devote any real time to reading up on parenting techniques. “Merlin's syphilitic prick!” He cried out in horror, tearing at his hair yet again. “I'm going to be worst ever! He'll probably die within a month!”

“Er...” Draco had stopped to watch Harry – who'd also come to a dead stop – as he freaked out. “I see... You really have been driven mad by all this studying.” He grabbed Harry by the arm. “Come on, let's get this over with so I can get back to class before it ends.”

They were relatively silent, Draco utterly puzzled by the way Harry almost waddled, his baggier than usual robes billowing out almost as if they had a continual breeze swirling around inside them. Harry couldn't be prodded into moving any faster and snarled when Draco tried. Strangest of all was...

“I'd swear you're glowing...” Draco murmured, frowning more than ever.

“Yeah, they say that happens, but I don't see it when I look in the mirror, so...” Harry trailed off with a shrug.

By the time they reached the Hospital Wing, Draco suspected that his hand cat wasn't dead after all. Either that or what should be his fingers kept twitching uncontrollably, probably in an attempt to move and flex like they normally did. He didn't dare look because he didn't want nightmares of a cat that was supposed to be his hand staring at him with vacant, soulless eyes.

“Good afternoon Harry!” Madam Pomfrey greeted him cheerfully. They'd developed an unexpectedly close relationship as she cared for him during his pregnancy.

“Hi Poppy,” Harry greeted in return, giving her a small but fond smile.

“What seems to be the problem? No pains I trust?”

Harry stepped to the side and swept his hands out to indicate Draco. “Treat Malfoy first. He wants to get right back to class.”

“I will so long as you answer a few simple questions first,” Poppy stated. “Are you having pains?”

“Yes, but –”

“Where?”

“All over my body, but  _ well _ ...”

“ _ Regular _ pains?”

“... Yes...” Harry replied hesitantly before sheer panic set in. “Oh God! Not now! Please tell me there's something you can do about it! You can stop it, right?!”

“Try to be calm, Harry,” Poppy advised as she scanned him with her wand.

“It's not time, it's not time, it's not time!  _ I'm not ready for this _ !” Harry wailed.

Poppy stashed her wand again so that she could grab Harry's head in her hands and force him to look at her. “Breathe. In two three and out two three... Again, in two three, just breathe.”

“Should I pant?” Harry asked, trying hard to find something to focus on so he could steady his nerves.

“Not just yet. My scans didn't show that it's time, so just keep breathing while I attend to Mr. Malfoy,” Poppy ordered with a happy and somewhat parental pride filled smile.

“I need lie down before I fall off my feet!” Harry exclaimed rather dramatically, flopping onto the nearest bed. “Ow!” He gasped, rubbing his belly. “I shouldn't have done that. Are you  _ sure _ it's not time?”

But Poppy was currently lost in her examination of Draco's hand. Draco was watching Harry so that he wouldn't have to look at his own hand. One brow was raised in amusement and disbelief.

“Just how fat have you gotten, Potter?”

“I'm perfectly healthy, Malfoy!”

“Yeah except for the fact that you look like a dragon about to lay an egg!”

“Oi, shut it, Malf – Oh! Ow ow ow ow ow...”

Poppy cast a spell on Draco. “There, that should stop it from hurting until I can tend to it properly.” She rushed over to Harry and scanned him with her wand. After a long moment of silence, she exhaled in relief. “Nothing to worry about, Harry. It's not time yet, your body is just practicing for the big day.”

“Why?” Harry asked in horror. “It's not like I'm going to, you know,  _ do it _ .”

Poppy chuckled. “No, but it doesn't know that. The best thing you can do right now is stay still and rest. I'll give you a potion to calm things down – no need to get active this early.” She summoned and then administered said potion.

Harry clutched his abdomen and panted rhythmically. “Ow ow ow ow ow.”

Poppy frowned, scanning him all over again. Once more, her scans assured her that this was practice labor and not active labor. “Does it really hurt that much?”

“My whole body does!” Harry exclaimed. “And these practice whatever they ares are just making it worse! Ow!” Harry glared at his stomach. “Plus, did I mention the kicking? He's playing Quidditch in there or something!”

Poppy laughed. “Oh Harry, I assure you that he's doing no such thing. It's just that there's very little room to move now that you're 32 weeks out of 40. He's probably just trying to get into position so that he's ready when the time comes.”

“Tell him he doesn't have to,” Harry grumbled as he pressed one hand to his stomach and shifted in a futile attempt to get comfortable.

“Merlin's tumorous gut! You're  _ actually pregnant!!! _ ” Draco blurted out in utter shock as his mind finished processing this information. He gaped at Harry, downright gobsmacked by this realization.

Harry groaned. “I'd appreciate it if you not tell anyone, Malfoy. I just want to make it through my NEWTs in one piece before I have to figure out where in the ever loving hell I'm going to live and how in Merlin's rotting brain I'm going to take care of my son – not to mention myself!”

“But how is this possible?!”

“A fertility potion, Mr. Malfoy,” Poppy answered as she resumed treating his cat hand. “It's rare but not impossible, as Harry has proved.”

“I keep telling you that it was actually a wish granting potion that apparently had the same effects as – oh never mind!” Harry grumbled as he gave up the argument. A huge yawn ripped from him, making his eyes water and his jaw ache. “Can you give me a potion to help me sleep? I haven't had a decent night's sleep in weeks!”

“I'll see what I can do,” Poppy promised as she carefully began the spell to reverse the transfiguration damage.

“Son of a!” Harry roared as he sat up. “I haven't even  _ drank _ anything since breakfast!” 

“How many times must I tell you to drink as much water as you possibly can?!” Poppy chided, still mostly focused on Draco's hand. “Your Professors all know to permit you a never ending glass of water during class.”

“I know, but water tastes disgusting right now and it just makes me have to visit the loo even more often,” Harry whinged. He was now waddling toward the private loo in the hospital wing.

“You and the baby need several litres of water a day to maintain–”

“I know I know!” Harry cried out in a harassed tone. “And I  _ do _ drink plenty of water  _ after _ I'm done with my classes for the day and can do my studying directly in the loo!”

“Cheer up love, not long now,” Poppy called after him with irreverent amusement. She finished fixing Draco's hand just as Harry managed to climb back into bed.

“Oi, Potter, who's the father? Other father, I mean. I'd like to start a pool and make a killing – unless it's Weasley. He's the obvious choice so everyone's going to be betting on him. The odds'll be atrocious!” Draco rambled a bit nervously because he had a deep suspicion and it scared the hell out of him.

“Hermione,” Harry stated with a deadpan expression that was ruined when he cracked another jaw-breaking yawn.

“Er... That's rather backwards, isn't it, scarhead?” 

Harry chuckled, feeling strangely relieved that Draco was  _ finally _ treating him normally. Sort of. He was suddenly in a good mood again and even his pain had lessened in general. It was still there but tolerable at the moment.

“To tell the truth, I don't actually know. It was a one off in the loo,” Harry confessed.

Draco paled so suddenly that Poppy prepared to catch him if he fainted. Oblivious, Harry continued his explanation.

“It was Halloween, so you should remember how we were all glamoured and, well, yeah. I wasn't looking to pull but the opportunity presented itself and I,” he shrugged. “I really wanted to try it. Maybe that potion George slipped me was influencing my actions, but I tried something I'd never even considered before and I liked it enough that I'd do it again. It was my first time too, but I'm prepared to have both Hermione and Ron and a couple others swear that's not true, so don't try spreading that around either.”

Poppy wasn't the only one who thought Draco might faint. Swaying woozily, Draco decided to sit on the nearest bed before he took an unexpected nap on the floor. He also buried his head in his hands and rocked slightly back and forth.

“ _ Fuck..... _ ”

“I'd dock points for language, Mr. Malfoy, but I suspect there's a very good reason for your deep shock,” Poppy remarked, eyeing him knowingly.

“I figured it out when I saw the scar on your chest that,  _ well _ ...” Draco said, taking deep breaths in an effort to remain calm. “I even tried to say something – give you a subtle hint – when I asked about your scar. I was going to casually mention that I had scars on my chest too and see if you'd noticed that little detail. Only Luna unnerved me before I could work it into the conversation.”

“Wait...” Harry bade suspiciously. “Are... Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

Draco looked away so that he could pretend that he wasn't having this utterly surreal conversation with  _ Harry sodding Potter _ of all people. “Only if you think I'm saying that there was an event in the second floor girls' bathroom that resulted in your stomach growing to the size of a small house.”

“Leave off Malfoy I'm not that – Oh God! It was  _ you _ !!!”

“Give the halfwit a prize, he figured it out!”

“Oh God! This can't be happening!” Harry half wailed, tearing at his hair yet again.

“Well apparently it is,” Draco sneered.

Harry whipped out his wand rather abruptly. “HE'S  _ MINE _ AND I WON'T LET YOU TAKE HIM FROM ME!”

Draco held up his hands in surrender. “Relax, Potter, I'm not going to do any such thing.”

“Oh! So you think I should do this all by myself, do you?!” Harry demanded in outrage.

“I didn't say that either!” Draco roared angrily.

“You can't have him!”

“Bloody hell, Potter! Stop shouting at me long enough to think this through!”

Harry paused for a moment before lowering his wand. “Alright. I suppose that's fair.

Draco flopped onto his back and slung an arm over his eyes. “What am I going to tell my parents?”

Poppy, relieved that they'd stopped fighting, decided that they definitely need some time alone to talk this over. Well, alone but chaperoned to ensure that they didn't end up trying to kill one another. For a moment there, she'd been half afraid that's exactly what Harry was going to do. She walked over to a plush armchair intended for visitors concerned with her patients and sat in it before summoning her never ending and always perfectly warm pot of tea. And a cup.

“Why do you have to tell them anything? It's not like you're planning to be around,” Harry grumbled.

“What sort of rotten bastard do you think I am, Potter? Er, don't answer that. The point is that I'm  _ not _ the sort to just abandon my child. Family is important to me! Like it or not, you're carrying the newest Malfoy heir and I –” he cut himself off with a weary sigh, tearing at his own hair for the first time that Harry could recall seeing. “I'm supposed to be well and truly married before anything like this happens. How am I ever going to explain it to my parents? They always –  _ always _ – stressed that I need to use contraceptive potions and spells, and I didn't even think about them because wizards can't normally get pregnant. I thought I was safe! Or well, you were, I suppose.”

Harry tilted his head side to side in understanding and agreement. “Yeah,  _ no one _ could have seen this coming. What happened was that George created a potion intended to grant a person their deepest wish at the time they take it. It works very subtly, the results coming about in the easiest way possible, often not even looking like a magical wish granting. That said, he said that the potion could grant any wish that was magically possible, and so, even though I didn't know it, my deep seated desire for a family of my own was granted because there are fertility potions to do this and so my wish was magically possible. As interpreted by the potion, I suppose.”

Draco blew out a sigh of relief. “It helps to know that you didn't do this on purpose. I was honestly wondering what sort of nutter you were for  _ purposely _ getting up the duff when you knew you had months of exhausting exam preparation ahead of you.”

Harry chuckled. “Not a nutter, just an unlucky sod.”

Draco shrugged. “Or a lucky sod, depending on your perspective. At least this way, you don't have to marry some witch your parents pick out for you. Not that you have, er, sorry.”

“True,” Harry agreed with a tiny smile. “I suppose you could always tell your parents the truth. That it was a series of random events that just so happen to result in, well...”

“A miracle,” Draco murmured, now sitting up and staring pensively at Harry's abdomen.

“That too, I suppose,” Harry replied, smiling a bit more now.

Morose, Draco sounded a bit far away as he said: “I feel like they're going to murder me no matter what I tell them.”

This made Poppy sit up at full attention. “Do you feel the need to have someone with you who can protect you if need be?”

“What?” Draco asked, confused for a moment as his mind returned from his thoughts. “No, nothing like that. They love me and will forgive me anything. I just meant that they'll be so disappointed in me that it'll  _ feel _ like I've been murdered. If that makes sense.”

Poppy tilted her head to the side with a half shrug. “It does. I think you both should rest for a bit. Rest never hurt anyone –  _ especially _ during NEWTs!”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, yawning again and snuggling into the nest he'd made out of the bedding.

Without a word, Draco did the same.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that's pretty much all I have. I hope I made you laugh :-D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco nervously breaks the happy news to his parents, and then Harry has the baby ^_^

Unlike normal final exams which were taken in the classrooms, NEWTs were like OWLs – taken in the great hall. The OWLs were given during the course of the first two weeks of June, so Harry was a bit surprised to realize that the NEWTs were given at the same time on a tight schedule that used the great hall when the OWLs were in between sessions. By this point, Harry was ready to cast a sleeping curse on himself so that he could just stop feeling so stressed all the time. He was an emotional wreck, blurting out rants about anything and everything that crossed his mind.

Such as: “And _why_ do they think students should know how to brew a Daught of Living Death?!?! It makes no sense! _When_ are we ever going to _use_ such a potion?!”

“I think it's more so that we can recognize the effects of it if we see it,” Hermione explained absently as she reviewed her copious notes.

Finally, the tests began. They took so long that more than one student had panic attacks so severe that they needed calming potions. Harry was so wound up that he ended up severely hexing the examiner during their D.A.D.A duel. Unexpectedly, this delighted the examiner so much that Harry received top marks.

The moment they were over, Harry went to bed for the foreseeable future. He wanted to be well rested and have a clear mind as soon as possible because now that he was done with school, he had much more important things to think about. It might sound sad, but he (and therefore Ron and Hermione) had ignored his pregnancy as much as possible in order to focus on the NEWTs, so he still wasn't prepared at all for his impending fatherhood.

Meanwhile, the moment Draco finished his exams, he sent an owl to let his parents know that he was done and fully planned to have dinner with them in Hogsmeade as expected. Technically there was still one more week before summer hols, but as usual, his parents didn't want to wait that long to hear how well he had done. He was fairly confident that he had passed everything with high marks.

This should have made him happy. At first, he sat across from his parents and smiled as he told them about his exams, but his smile didn't reach his eyes and his parents could see that very clearly. They exchanged looks and wondered if Draco was still suffering from lingering trauma, which made sense considering that he'd been more or less forced to become a Death Eater and torture people on occasion. Plus other things they really didn't want to think about.

When he fell silent for several long moments and was obviously lost in thought, they finally decided to just ask.

“Draco, darling,” Narcissa said as she reached across the table and took his hand. “What's the matter.”

Draco pressed his lips together and remained silent.

“Son?” Lucius prompted in concern.

With a sigh, Draco reclaimed his hand from his mother and took a long gulp of fine Albariño wine from his glass. Then he fiddled with his glass, focusing on it so that he didn't have to look at his parents. “Something happened...”

His parents exchanged another concerned glance. “Alright...”

“Er...” Draco took a deep breath and held it for a moment. “Well, so, back in the beginning of the school year, they held a Halloween party. Do you remember me telling you how we all had to wear glamour charms?”

Narcissa smiled encouragingly. “Yes. You wrote that you were excited to see what it would be like to be a simple nobody for the night.”

“Yes,” Draco confirmed with a faint smile. “The glamour charms worked beautifully – no one knew who anyone was. I was able to relax and enjoy the party. I even taught someone to dance.”

“That's... good...” Lucius murmured in confusion. “But why are you telling us this now?”

Draco sighed and took another long sip of his wine, refilling the glass when he was done. “Because... that boy I taught to dance, he, er... He invited me to, er...” he faltered with a blush.

This time, the look his parents exchanged was rather amused. Lucius even huffed a laugh. “I assure you that it's perfectly natural to experiment at your age.”

“Are you saying that you want us to meet your boyfriend?” Narcissa added, trying to be supportive and encouraging.

“No!” Draco blurted out in surprise, then added in a mutter: “If _only_ it were that simple.” He took another sip of wine. “So, I accepted the invitation to play, and that would have been the end of it except that the boy in question turned out to be the one sodding boy in all of creation that can't just have a simple one off in a loo and –” he stopped and blushed harder when he realized that he had admitted that a bit more graphically than he had intended. “Er, anyway,” he took another deep breath. “It turns out that he had been given a potion that, er, well, erm...” He downed the rest of the wine in his glass again.

“Surely whatever it is can't be _that_ bad,” Narcissa said, intending this to mean that they could deal with it no matter how much magic or money it required.

Lucius raised a brow as it occurred to him that there were plenty of very serious things that could result from a potion. “Was it a bonding potion? Tell me it wasn't an enslaving potion! Those are tricky to break, but we'll do whatever it takes to free you if necessary. No Malfoy should have to suffer such a fate.”

Draco smirked. “I suppose that in some ways, yes, it was an enslaving potion. But no, he explained that it was a wish granting potion, and the wish it granted was for family.”

His parents were concerned again, exchanging yet another glance.

“Are you saying that... you're getting married to him?” Narcissa hypothesized.

“Adopting him into our family?” Lucius guessed with a frown.

Chuckling, Draco shook his head. “I'm saying that he's pregnant.”

'.'

'.'

o.O

o.o

“... What?” Lucius blurted out. He suddenly felt the need to drain his own wine glass.

“Are you serious?” Narcissa wondered, a bit flustered.

“Yes, and I'm sorry. Obviously I didn't think it was possible, or I'd have used a contraceptive spell. I _did_ check him for diseases when he wasn't paying attention, so I wasn't a complete idiot,” Draco said defensively.

“So... we're having a grandchild...?” Narcissa questioned hesitantly.

“It's a boy, actually,” Draco informed her with a faint smile. “He's due near the end of July.”

Still not entirely pleased by the situation, Lucius couldn't help but grin. “A boy! We're going to have a grandson!”

“An Heir to carry on the Malfoy name,” Draco stated, knowing that this was the most important part and might actually win his parents over.

“I'll admit that I'm not pleased about the circumstances,” Lucius told his son sternly. “But I'm willing to help you make the best of the situation.”

Narcissa forced a smile. “And who is the other boy?”

“Er...” Draco downed yet another glass of wine to brace himself. “He's... Harry. … ( ; ¬ _ ¬) Potter.” 

O.O

°□°

°□°

x.x

“Dad!” Draco cried out in alarm as his father tumbled to the floor in a dead faint. Meanwhile, Narcissa was chugging wine straight from the bottle now. Rubbing his temples, Draco prayed his dad would remember this conversation when he woke up because Draco _really_ didn't want to have to go through it again.

 

***

 

“I can't _believe_ exams are finally over!” Seamus exalted in incredulous disbelief.

“I wonder if we can go home early since we won't even get our results in school like the other students,” Ron pointed out. Non OWL and NEWT students got their exam results at the end of the second week of June, which sometimes changed the House Point totals. After that, they had their end of year feast in the third week of June and the House Cup was awarded. It was a very close race this year with all four Houses being within 20 points of each other.

“I'd like that,” Harry agreed. “Madam Pomfrey thinks I should go on bed rest and _that_ would be so much easier if I wasn't in a dorm.”

“McGonagall will probably give you special permission even if the rest of us have to stay,” Hermione remarked absently as she looked over some notes, still utterly convinced that she could have done better and wondering if they'd let her take the test again when she felt more prepared.

“Oi, do you have any more lamb chops on your table?” Anthony called out from the Ravenclaw table.

“Mmm, that sounds good,” Harry murmured as he picked up the platter of small chops, put two on his plate, and then stood up to carry the platter over to Anthony. Midway between the tables, Harry gasped in pain and dropped the platter to clutch his abdomen as he doubled over. “Ah!”

The entire great hall fell silent as they wondered if Harry was just fooling around, or if there was something serious wrong. After all, rumor had it that Harry had a valid medical illness that couldn't be easily cured by magic. Maybe he was cursed?

“Ohhhhhhhh.....” Harry moaned, panting and still holding his stomach.

“Oh God, I think it's time!” Hermione blurted out as she leapt to her feet.

“We gotta get 'im to the hospital wing!” Ron cried out in mild panic. He had also leapt to his feet and now wrung his hands rather fretfully.

“Is it the baby?!” Draco yelled from where he sat – actually, he was standing now – at the Slytherin table.

“How do you know about the baby?” Ron demanded in an incredulous roar.

“BABY?!?!” Pretty much every student in the hall burst out in shock.

“Ow ow oW OW _OW_!” Harry wailed, panting harder than ever.

Hermione was already at his side. “Breathe Harry. Try to stand up.”

“It's not time yet!” Draco called out in panic as he tried to extricate himself from the long bench and ended up falling flat on his face for a moment before leaping to his feet once more. “He's still has more than a month!”

“You're right!” Ron shouted in a fair amount of panic himself now. “How do you know that?! More importantly, does this mean something is wrong???”

“Calm down Ron!” Hermione snapped shrilly. “You're not helping!” She was rubbing Harry's back. “Come on Harry, we need to get you to Madam Pomfrey.”

“OW OW OW OW OW!” Harry sobbed, still bent over and clutching his painfully contracting abdomen.

“Out of the way!” Hagrid roared, always a good man to have around in a crisis.

“All students are required to remain seated for the next few minutes!” McGonagall announced insistently as she followed Hagrid to Harry. Hagrid scooped him up and held him gently as he rushed out of the great hall. Hermione and Ron naturally followed him – as did McGonagall, who glared at Draco when she noticed him disobeying direct orders. “Return to your seat, Mr. Malfoy!”

“Not on your life!” Draco roared angrily. “That's my baby too and I _will not_ just sit here if something might be wrong!”

McGonagall stopped short to gape incredulously at him. The students all gasped, utterly gobsmacked. Ron and Hermione whipped around so abruptly that they collided and fell over.

“Wait, _what?_ ” Hermione asked in astonishment. Harry hadn't gotten around to mentioning that tidbit mainly because he was too busy studying to have _time_ to mention it. Also, he and Draco hadn't spoken to each other at all since that day in the hospital wing, and so Harry figured that Draco wasn't planning to be around, so what would be the point of mentioning it?

Draco roughly hauled her to her feet. “Later, Granger. Right now, we have to run after Potter.”

“Er, right,” Hermione muttered, feeling a bit sheepish. She helped Ron up and they all resumed their rapid jog out of the hall and up the stairs.

“On the bed!” Poppy was ordering Hagrid as they caught up to him.

“Make it stop!” Harry wailed, curling into a ball the moment Hagrid gently set him on the bed.

“Try to be calm, Harry,” Poppy said, casting spells to see what was going on. Sure enough, he was in active labor. “It's definitely time. I'm going to have to deliver – drink this.”

Desperate for the pain to stop, Harry downed the potion she handed him. To his profound relief, the pain dramatically lessened to something he could bear. Sighing, Harry rolled onto his back.

“Thanks Poppy!”

“Remember Harry, I've given you a potion to numb the lower half of your body. Now, I'm going to have to cut you open and pull the baby out.”

Harry nodded in understanding. He struggled to sit up, which Hagrid obligingly helped with. At a gesture, Ron rushed to reposition the pillows as Poppy adjusted the bed to make reclining more comfortable. Hermione walked around to the other side of the bed so that she could hold Harry's hand and brush sweaty clumps of hair out of his face.

“It'll be over soon,” she assured him. He nodded, praying she was right. He also took hold of Ron's hand, grateful that his best friends were right by his side, where they belonged.

Ron and Hagrid more than filled the space on Harry's right, so McGonagall and Draco walked over to join Hermione on Harry's left. Poppy normally would have told everyone to leave, but since none of them were in her way and she had more important things to worry about, she ignored them. She sat on the bed and cast spells to disinfect Harry's stomach and her hands. When ready, she cast cutting spells.

Harry watched in fascination as blood and a yellow fluid gushed out of his stomach. Now that he no longer felt the pain quite so badly, this all seemed rather interesting. The sight of Poppy's hand inside him made him queasy, but he swallowed it down.

Suddenly, she pulled a reddish purple ball from the hole in his lower abdomen. Harry whimpered when she tugged on the ball in a way that seemed unnecessarily violent to him, but nevertheless made two shoulders appear one at a time. After that, a last tug helped the rest of the baby slip free surprisingly easily. Harry felt tears sliding down his cheeks as Hagrid burst into extremely loud wailing sobs of happiness.

“Will you take him, Miss Granger?” Poppy asked, mentally kicking herself for not having a towel or something on hand to wrap him in.

“No,” Harry stated with a shake of his head. “Give him to Draco.”

“As you wish,” Poppy murmured, turning to look at Draco.

Draco looked far too pale – like he was one second from fainting – but he held out his shaking hands and took the baby. He didn't even protest that blood and other fluid was getting all over his clothes as he held the baby close. He stared at the baby with wide eyes, gulping repeatedly. His whole body was shaking now and he was afraid that he might still faint and or drop his new son.

Everyone except for the Mediwitch watched Draco hold the baby as Poppy finished up her task. The baby sort of coughed, which expelled quite a bit of fluid from his mouth, cried once as if testing it out, and then settled down to stare at Draco as if he had no idea what he was looking at.

Draco felt like he'd been punched in the gut and it was all he could do to choke back a sob. “He's _beautiful_...”

Now that Poppy had the temporary womb out of Harry, she charmed it to float off to the side of and above the baby's head so that it could drain into him for a few minutes while she finished healing Harry. She paused for a moment to smile at Draco. “That he is, love.”

McGonagall had a hand on Draco's back to subtly steady him. “Would you like to sit, Mr. Malfoy?”

But Draco didn't hear her; he was far too focused on his son. Now that he was a little confident that he wouldn't drop the baby, he used one hand to count all the perfect little fingers and toes. The baby grabbed his pointer finger in a surprisingly strong grip, which made Draco gasp in surprise.

“There!” Poppy proudly pronounced a minute later. “All done! Harry, do you mind donating your placenta and womb to the Potions Professor, or would you prefer that I vanish them?”

“Er... I dunno,” Harry murmured with a frown.

Draco looked up and cleared his throat. “Actually, _I'd_ like to have it.” He turned to look at Harry. “It's useful for nutritive potions – the sort _you_ should take for the next couple of months to help regain your strength – both magical and physical.”

Harry raised a brow in surprise. “Are you saying you want to make me health potions?”

Draco grumbled indistinctly and returned his attention to the baby. Poppy chuckled.

“Well, he's not wrong about that. In the wild, most animals eat their placentas – even some vegetarians – in order to recover from their pregnancy.”

“I read about that somewhere,” Hermione murmured in agreement.

“Yeah, alright,” Harry agreed with a shrug.

Ron snorted a laugh. “I bet Slughorn will be devastated that he missed out on actual Harry Potter Placenta!”

That made Harry laugh as Poppy tied off the cord and cut it before magically drying the womb and putting it in a summoned jar. Grinning, he held out his hands. “Can I see him?”

Draco gave him a wary look, as if he was positive that Harry was going to take the baby away and kick him out for good. Pressing his lips together, he stepped forward. Poppy moved off the bed just then, so he took her place, feeling like he would rather swallow a hive of live wasps than hand over his son. Holding his breath, he reluctantly presented Harry with the baby.

Harry took him gently and looked him over with a watery expression of pure adoration. “He _is_ beautiful...”

“Did you ever come up with a name?” Ron asked curiously.

“I had a few thoughts, but nothing definite,” Harry admitted. “I thought I'd have more time to think it over.”

“Scorpius Malfoy,” Draco suggested with a deadpan expression to cover up his sheer cheek.

“What sort of name is _Scorpius_?” Harry asked with a frown.

“It's a constellation and the name I've planned to use since I was a child first studying the stars,” Draco informed him defensively.

Harry shrugged. “If it's a constellation you want, what about Sirius?”

Draco gave him a flat look.

Hermione laughed softly. “I always liked Caelum.”

Draco tilted his head in her direction to acknowledge that she had a point. Then he smirked. “There's always Draco Malfoy junior.”

“Ha!” Harry harrumphed. “I was thinking James Sirius Potter, actually.”

Draco sighed in disappointment but didn't say anything.

“ _But_ ,” Harry continued. “I suppose I'd be willing to agree to Caelum if having a constellation is that important to you.”

Draco was clearly surprised by this. “You would?”

Nodding, Harry pressed a kiss to his son's cheek. The baby was staring at him as if not quite sure what to make of this large creature holding him. “Why not? The name is growing on me. Caelum Potter.”

“Malfoy.”

Harry gave him a flat look. “Potter. _I_ gave birth to him.”

Draco sighed in aggravation and capitulation. “Fine... Malfoy-Potter.”

Chuckling, Harry nodded. “Alright, Caelum _James_ Malfoy-Potter.”

“ _Fine_...”

“So I guess it's true then,” Ron stated, figuring that Harry would have kicked the arrogant prat out a long time ago if Draco wasn't actually the other father.

“Yeah,” Harry admitted. “Draco realized what had happened when he saw the scar on my chest. When we were both sent to the hospital wing that one day, I really thought I was in labor and he found out I was pregnant – put two and two together – and told me that he was the other father. I didn't think he'd stick around though.”

Draco sighed wearily. “I told you, Potter, that family is important to me. Of course I'm going to stick around.”

Harry was silent for a moment as he thought this over. “And... how do you plan for this to work?”

“You'll move into the Manor – of course. I already told my parents and they've prepared a suite for you,” Draco explained.

“They must not have murdered you then,” Harry joked wryly.

“I thought you were going to live in Grimmauld Place,” Ron interjected.

“I thought about it,” Harry admitted. “But I'm not sure that's the best place to raise a baby. I was also thinking that maybe I'd find a flat in a nice neighborhood with a big park for him to play in.”

“The garden, meadow, and forest surrounding the Manor is a wonderful place for a child to play,” Draco pointed out.

Harry laughed softly at how insistent Draco was being. “Alright, I'll come over to take a look. I make no promises though.”

Draco looked down as he picked at some non-existent lint on the bedding. “The whole Manor has been redecorated since, er, your last visit. It's not so gloomy and more like how it used to be before, well...”

“Good to know,” Harry murmured.

“We should probably go with you, Harry, to make sure it's not some sort of trap,” Ron suggested pragmatically. “Will you be alright going, Hermione?”

“I think so,” Hermione murmured, sounding a little haunted.

“I'm sorry...” Draco whispered, not looking at any of them. “I couldn't have stopped my Aunt no matter what I tried.”

Hermione patted him on the shoulder. “I know. I saw the look on your face; I know you were upset.” She sat down next to him and pulled up her sleeve. “I could have easily healed this so that it didn't scar, but I decided that I'm proud to be a mudblood. I wear this as a badge of honor.”

Draco looked at her scar for two seconds before pressing his lips together and looking away.

“Well,” Poppy interrupted before anyone else could say anything. “I think it's time for everyone to leave and let Harry rest. He's had quite a day, after all.”

“What about Caelum?” Draco asked.

“You can stay, Mr. Malfoy, so long as you sit in a chair and do your best not to disturb Harry's rest. I'll teach you how to feed darling Caelum and put a nappy on him. We'll even give him a little sponge bath, shall we?”

“I'd like that...” Draco murmured with a soft smile.

Ron and Hermione each gave Harry and Caelum a kiss on the cheek with a promise to return later with food. Hagrid had paused his blubbering at some point long enough to take a few pictures of Harry (and Draco) holding the baby. He promised to have them developed as soon as possible. As he left, he sobbed about how beautiful it had been to be included at such a special event and how proud he was of Harry.

McGonagall placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. “Rest well, Harry. You have a fine son there.”

Teary eyed once more, Harry smiled at her. “Thanks, Professor.”

She grinned at him. “I'm not your Professor anymore. You can call me Minerva, if you'd like.”

“Er... Thanks,” Harry replied with an embarrassed blush. He suddenly felt almost as emotional as he had when Molly asked him to call her mum! With a nod, she left.

With Poppy's help, Harry lay down and got comfortable. It was awkward while holding the baby, but he didn't want to let him go just yet. He looked up at Draco – who'd gotten off the bed to give Harry room.

“Oi, Malfoy, I saw how possessive you looked when you were holding Caelum. If you promise not to run away with him, I'll let you hold him while I sleep.”

“Why would I run away with him? The only place I could go would be the Manor, and you'd simply have a team of Aurors come in and raid us, so that wouldn't do me any good,” Draco replied. Harry noticed that he didn't deny thinking about it.

“Not to worry, Harry,” Poppy stated with an encouraging smile. “I already cast a spell on him so that no one can take him out of this room without your permission.”

“Oh. Well, in that case...” Harry held Caelum out to Draco. Then he abruptly changed his mind and gave Caelum a big, wet kiss, before holding him out again.

Draco took his son with a sigh of relief, cuddling him and giving him a kiss as he followed Poppy over to a chair. Despite thinking that he was too fretful to sleep, Harry passed out within mere moments.

 

***

 

When Harry opened his eyes, it took him a few seconds to remember that he had decided to live in the Manor after all. Sunlight poured through the windows, making his eyes water. He sat up with a frown. Caelum was only two months old and prone to waking Harry every two hours to be fed and changed. So... why hadn't that happened?

Mildly panicked, Harry looked around to find Draco sitting in a chair that wasn't in direct sunlight. Draco sensed someone watching him and looked at Harry. He looked at peace and gave Harry a small smile.

“Good morning, Potter. I happened to be getting dressed when Muffy informed me that Caelum was fussing, so I came in here to take care of him and let you sleep for a bit longer.”

“Er... thanks, I guess,” Harry murmured sleepily. With a yawn, he scratched his sweaty head and groped around for his wand so that he could summon a glass of water from the table in the sitting room portion of his suite.

“No problem. My mother was quite insistent that I bring Caelum to breakfast so that she could hold him for a bit,” Draco informed Harry. “I think she rather hopes that I'll persuade you to go shopping or something so that she has an excuse to babysit.”

Caring for a newborn kept Harry busy enough that he tended to stay in his suite. Plus, he _really_ didn't want to have to make small talk with Lucius on a regular basis. Therefore, the Malfoys had only really seen Caelum for an hour or so each day. Except for Draco, who came to see Caelum whenever he wanted, which was most of each day. Harry could sort of understand why Narcissa would want to babysit.

“No need to go shopping,” Harry stated with a shrug. “But you can tell your mother that I'd be grateful for some time to sort through all my fan mail.” At this, Harry cringed and glanced at a large box that had been delivered after the Owl Postmaster had scanned it all for anything harmful. Non harmful things – such as chocolates laced with love potions – were clearly labeled so that Harry didn't accidentally eat them.

Draco snorted. “Well don't expect me to help you! If it were up to me, I'd incinerate the lot.”

“Yeah yeah,” Harry muttered since he was used to Draco heckling him about his mail by now.

Deciding that Caelum was well and truly asleep for the moment, Draco got up and set him in his crib. It was a family heirloom spelled to keep the baby as safe and happy as possible, but wasn't used very often yet as Harry preferred to have Caelum sleep in bed with him. Once he was certain that Caelum wasn't going to wake up the moment he was set down, Draco walked over and sat on the edge of Harry's bed.

“Say, Potter, I've been wondering...”

Harry raised a brow, interested by the way Draco was hesitant and lightly blushing. “Yeah?”

“Er, well, you see, erm, I was wondering, well, it's like this, er, I... I...”

Harry snickered softly. “Spit it out already, Malfoy!”

Draco glared at him. “Shut it, Potter!” Then he looked away. “So... you once said that the time in the loo was your first time, but that you liked it enough to try it again. Well, I was wondering if... You...”

Harry choked incredulously. “You want to shag me?!”

“Well, it's been a while since I was too busy studying in the Eighth Year Common Room to visit Slytherin more than once a month, so...” he trailed off with a shrug. “And I mean we have before, so why not?”

“God yes!” Harry blurted out.

“Wait, what?” Draco asked in confusion.

Harry grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him closer. “Like you said, that was my first time, and it was my _only_ time too. Ever since I found out it was you, I can't help but dream about it and wonder what it would have been like without the glamours. But then I remember that we probably would have hexed each other instead.”

Draco swallowed a bit nervously. He decided to try a joke to lighten the mood a little. “I _never_ hex anyone who I plan to shag...”

Harry smirked. “At least not until you're finished, I expect.”

Smirking faintly himself, Draco pulled out his wand. “I was always careful not to catch anything, so I'm clean. I'll prove it.” A moment later, he lit up white. “See?”

“Good to know,” Harry murmured with a smile, pulling Draco even closer so that he could kiss him. “And I promise that I haven't taken any potions at all, so – unless you've slipped me something in my water – I should be safe.”

Grinning, Draco returned the kiss. After a moment, he shifted so that he was more fully on the bed and had better leverage. Harry took full advantage of this by laying down again and pulling Draco on top of him.

For a long time, they did nothing but kiss. Hesitant kisses that turned into more confident ones that turned into heated ones. Eventually, Harry gathered up the courage to run his hands up inside Draco's silky shirt. This reminded him that he never actually did see Draco fully naked. Deciding that _that_ needed to be remedied immediately, Harry grabbed his wand and cast a spell to make all of Draco's clothes temporarily intangible so that they could be banished to the other side of the room.

“Well now,” Draco drawled with a pleased smirk. “Seems only fair if I...” Grabbing his wand from where he'd set it on the bed earlier, Draco cast the same spells so that Harry was naked just as abruptly.

Harry moaned at how good it felt to have his naked skin pressed against Draco's. Using one hand, he turned Draco's head so that he had access to suck on that pale and creamy neck. Draco decided that this was an excellent time for his hands to roam all over Harry's body.

After creating a fairly dark bruise on Draco's neck, Harry hummed in delight before hissing in Parseltongue: “ _I want to bite you all over. I want to lick you and suck on you and make you mine_.”

Draco shivered uncontrollably, strangely turned on. He shifted abruptly to show Harry how turned on he was by giving him a blowjob. He licked, sucked, and utterly worshiped Harry's thick shaft. It didn't take long for Harry's legs to shake and his balls to tighten.

“Oh God! I'm gonna –!” Before he could even say what he was going to do – which was fairly obvious at that point – he clutched Draco's hair and let out an incredulous gasp as he pumped that lush mouth full. Draco swallowed it all before moving on.

Rather than give Harry time to pass out and recover, Draco used his mouth and hands on Harry's soft pucker – which made Harry gasp incredulously all over again. Slowly, Draco took the time to soften Harry without spells. When Harry was ready, he fumbled around the bed for his wand, and once he had it in hand, used it to summon the bottle of oil he like to use while wanking. Draco took it from him with an amused smirk.

After making sure there was plenty of lube inside Harry to ease the way, Draco oiled up his shaft and shifted until he was in position. Then he faltered.

“Something wrong?” Harry asked with a puzzled frown.

“I just can't believe you're letting me do this,” Draco murmured rather more honestly than he intended.

“I already told you, I liked it enough to try it again,” Harry reminded him with a shrug. Then he decided that kissing Draco would probably help the gorgeous prat relax and get on with it.

Sure enough, Draco moaned happily as he returned the kiss and pressed into Harry. It took a few moments until he was buried deep, but then he practically purred as he picked a moderate pace. Harry arched his back and noisily made sounds of encouragement until Draco was pounding into him in a wonderfully satisfying way. Harry clung to him, giving him kisses with each thrust.

_Just_ when Draco was certain the end was imminent, Caelum started squalling. “Salazar damn it!”

Muffy popped into the room in response to what was – in essence – one of her masters calling for her. She squeaked in alarm when she realized that she was interrupting something highly intimate. “Sorry Master!”

“Never mind that!” Draco snarled. “Bring Caelum to my mother and tell her we need her to watch him for a few minutes.”

“Yes Master,” Muffy immediately agreed, carefully picking up the baby and popping out of the room with him.

Relieved, Draco kissed Harry. “Now, where were we?”

Harry thrust his hips up into Draco. “Right about here.”

“Mmm,” Draco moaned sensually. “Here's a good place to be.”

“I agree,” Harry said with a devilish grin. He reached between them and grasped his own shaft. Just a few tugs had him getting noticeably tighter around Draco's shaft.

“Fuck!” Draco groaned as the pleasure was too intense to resist. He barely had to thrust a half a dozen more times before he was pumping Harry full. Harry let out a prolonged low moan as he squirted out a hot and sticky mess between them. They fully enjoyed the bliss while it lasted, and then Draco collapsed on top of Harry.

They took a nap for about a half an hour, unconsciously shifting until they were snuggled up a bit like puppies. Suddenly, Draco's eyes flew open and he gasped in mortification.

“I didn't tell Muffy not to tell my parents what we were doing!”

Harry chuckled softly, still more or less asleep. He murmured something that sounded suspiciously like: “So tell 'em I'm yer b'frien.”

Draco turned his head to stare at Harry in astonishment. Rather than clarify his statement, Harry simply snuggled into Draco and purred happily. “Sleep...”

With a soft smile, Draco kissed him before closing his eyes and doing as told. Until the thought of Harry as his boyfriend provoked a response that demanded immediate attention. With a grin, he reached between their legs and adjusted their shafts so that they were together and he could wank them at the same time.

“Oh God!” Harry cried out in definite approval. It took a delightfully long time to reach their climax, but afterward, no matter how much Harry wanted to take another nap, he just couldn't. He was _starving_!

Highly tempted to hide in this room forever, they reluctantly agreed to get dressed and go check on their son together. This took a surprisingly long time as they kept getting distracted by snogging and groping each other. Draco had to put his shirt on three times before Harry stopped pulling it back off him to lick his nipples or bite his back – not that Draco was complaining. It was actually Harry's hunger that prompted him to stop so that they could finish dressing.

“It's about time!” Lucius harrumphed when they entered the sun room – where Narcissa liked to have most of their meals.

Both boys blushed, feeling like they were about five years old and being scolded for sneaking cookies after being forbidden to eat any before dinner.

Narcissa took in their rumpled appearance and the marks on Draco's neck and assumed that Muffy had told the truth after all. She smiled and gestured to the empty seats at the table. 

“Are you hungry? Lunch is due to be served any moment now. Caelum has been such a good little angel, only fussing when he's hungry or needing a change.”

Surprised that she wasn't chiding them, Harry smiled at her. “Thanks, Mrs. Malfoy. I'm starving!”

“Please, call me Narcissa. We're as good as family now.”

“Only if you call me Harry.”

“Of course.”

Draco was nearly reeling in shock at his mother and Harry getting along. By the look of it, Lucius wasn't best pleased by this turn of events, but he pressed his lips together and kept his mouth shut. Instead, he held out his cup of tea, which prompted a house elf to pop into the room and fill it.

Lunch was a strange affair with Harry and Narcissa doing most of the talking, but since no one threatened to hex anyone, Draco supposed it was a win. He nervously tried to work the fact that Harry was his boyfriend now into the conversation, but never quite managed it. When lunch was over, he felt strangely depressed about the missed opportunity.

“Look!” Narcissa exclaimed joyously as she pointed out the window. “It's utterly _gorgeous_ today. I think I'll take my darling grandson for a walk in the garden, shall I?”

Harry smiled at her, still rather amazed that the  _Malfoys_ made better grandparents than Petunia had been an Aunt. He was half certain that he'd have lost a fortune had he been betting on it.

Draco nudged Harry with his shoulder. “Quidditch? A seeker's game, I mean.”

“I'd like that,” Harry accepted with a grin, and then gave Draco an impulsive kiss. Draco smiled at him, quite forgetting that his parents were watching them rather avidly.

Lucius let out a heavy sigh of acceptance. “Well, at least I don't have to worry so much that Mr. Potter will abruptly decide to abscond with my grandson.”

Draco was floored even as Harry gave Lucius a flat look for a moment before shrugging. “Come on, Draco,” he said as he grabbed Draco's hand and dragged him toward the nearest exit. “It's been forever since I had a chance to ride my broom.”

“Same here,” Draco stated, lacing his fingers through Harry's. “If I win, you're moving into my suite. If you win, you're moving into my suite.”

Harry laughed. “Sounds like either way, I'm moving into your suite.”

“Exactly!”

Grinning, Harry gave Draco a kiss so thorough that they had to stop and give it their full attention. They could hear Lucius growling in the background but paid him no mind. Suddenly, Harry could picture himself living here for the rest of his life and the idea wasn't unpleasant.

After one last kiss, Harry broke free and ran off. “Last one on his broom has to get up with Caelum each time he fusses tonight!”

“Oi, no fair!” Draco protested as Harry had a clear head start. Not to mention, he was already pulling his broom out of the pouch around his neck. He chased after Harry, summoning his broom as he went.

Narcissa followed them at a leisurely pace, cuddling her grandson. “It's so nice to see Draco happy again.”

Lucius, who was following his wife since he had nothing better to do, nodded and reluctantly admitted that it was true, Draco  _was_ happy. “Yes...”

“Get along with Harry or I'll murder you myself, understand?” Narcissa ordered with a serene smile and a deadly glint in her eye.

“Yes dear,” Lucius replied with a sigh. He knew better than to cross her. “I'll do my best.”

“Good,” she stated, and that was the end of the matter. Harry was officially a member of the family.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this one! ^_^


End file.
